SG1 Ficlet: Hell of a Sight
Hell of a Sight
SG1 1800 words PWP
Jack/Daniel. Well, Daniel/Jack, really.
Rating: porn porn porn porn porn.
Warnings: More than a little bit of power-exchange d/s dynamic, but not really any kinky trappings to go with it. No spoilers.
AN: This is so ludicrously self-indulgent. Also? Porn in past tense is hard. Thanks to amara_m for the look-over!
Every once in a while, Daniel got chatty on him.
It shouldn’t be surprising, not in the least; not when Daniel could, and would, talk about anything, at great length, with little provocation, in any one of two dozen languages. Not when Jack had tortured himself for years by carefully rationing out the times he was allowed to stare at those perfectly shaped lips, follow their quick movements with his eyes. The timbre of Daniel’s voice, sound stripped of all meaning, would compete with the pounding of blood in his ears until Daniel asked, “are you even listening?” and he would answer, “Obviously not. Try again, in smaller words,” and pretend it was just the same old snark.
Jack wasn’t embarrassed by sex. He liked sex. He liked sex, and he liked sex with men a whole lot, and he really, really liked sex with Daniel. His career dictated that he couldn’t shout it from the rooftops, but it’s not like he was some kind of blushing virgin.
Except Daniel was trained as an anthropologist, and apparently they surgically removed a person’s sense of embarrassment during the second year of an anthropology doctorate (no, wait- that’s a joke about doctors. Fuck it, he’s derivative when he’s this horny). And so Daniel can talk about Jack’s remarkable refractory period, for a man of 49, or the way his scrotum twitches when Daniel presses his tongue just there, or his pilomotor reflex (“My what?” “Goosebumps,” Daniel had said mildly, still running his fingernails very lightly over Jack’s back).
The thing was that Daniel talked about sex just as calmly- if anything, far more calmly- than he did any other subject. His words wouldn’t speed up, wouldn’t start to tumble over themselves in excitement the way they did in response to a ruin or an inscription, and his voice stayed controlled and level and almost inflectionless. Even when Jack was gasping or biting on his knuckles to keep quiet, Daniel would still be speaking in full sentences, usually with multiple clauses and polysyllabic words. It was infuriating.
They had been moving right along at a pace Jack thoroughly approved of, tearing at each other’s clothes like teenagers and kissing like they were trying to climb inside each other, no talking, no noises except groans, when Jack accidentally set him off this time.
He braced his forearms against the wall, let his head drop to rest against them, and pushed his ass back towards Daniel in mute appeal. Daniel, damn him, placed his hand firmly against the curve of Jack’s side, just above his hip, and said, “You know, that is a remarkably arousing sight.”
“For God’s sake, Daniel-”
“I’m just saying that I’ve never seen you in that posture before. I’ve seen a few women like that, but no men outside of porn, and certainly not you. I didn’t really expect it to affect me so much, though I suppose that’s predictable.”
“I enjoy our little naked coffee-klatches, but if you would just fuck me already,” Jack said through gritted teeth, fighting to stay still through a wave of intense self-consciousness.
“No, I don’t think I will quite yet.” Daniel sounded almost absent-minded, tossing off the answer while his mind stayed focused on more important matters. He slid straight back into his monologue.
“After all, that’s a position of pretty intense sexual submission. The back of your neck is bared, your spine is arched, your ass is presented.”
How the hell does a guy just say things like that? As Jack tried to lift his head, meaning to straighten and turn and shut him up by force if necessary, Daniel’s hand closed hard on the back of his neck.
“Don’t move. I’m looking.” Daniel’s voice was still deceptively mild, but Jack felt himself forced back down until his forehead rested again on his wrists, and had to stifle a noise. “There’s a great deal of evolution going into that pose, and my reaction to it. I don’t know how you could make that more animalistic if you tried. Well, actually, I do know.”
Daniel didn’t release the back of his neck, but he gripped Jack’s hip hard with his other hand, and slid one leg between Jack’s. Then he leaned over, lips just brushing the shell of Jack’s ear, breath a humid puff that made the skin of Jack’s neck twitch in pleasure, and said very simply, “Spread.”
Jesus Christ.
Jack’s whole body shuddered violently as Daniel kicked his legs apart.
“There. Now you couldn’t make that posture any more arousing. You could, of course, beg, but you won’t; that’s not your style.”
Somewhere inside a haze of lust Jack found himself thinking that he actually might. Then Daniel’s hands left him, and Jack shivered as his body warmth retreated. He wanted to lift his head, turn around, but it suddenly seemed unbearably heavy. “Where are you-”
“Still looking,” Daniel said, and for the first time his voice didn’t seem so much just calm as tightly controlled. “Don’t worry, Jack. I don’t think there’s a chance in hell you’re not getting fucked this evening.”
Then he was back, hands tracing Jack’s shoulders, down the long line of his back and over his ass, firm and a little demanding. For the first time, Jack found himself struggling to keep his mind on Daniel’s words, not content to let them just wash over him this time.
“I wonder what it does for you? You can feel my eyes all over you, you know your submission turns me on-” And here Jack felt Daniel’s cock press against his ass, steady insistent rolls of Daniel’s hips. He tried to suppress his urge to buck backwards against it. “-and it would certainly be good if that worked for you. I would hope for an elevated pulse-” Daniel’s fingers there, against his throat, just for a few seconds. “-and a flush.” The back of Daniel’s hand, cool on his cheek. “I would certainly hope-” And then Daniel’s knuckles brushed gently from his balls all the way up the length of his cock. He whimpered, and could hear the smile behind the word as Daniel answered, “Good.”
Then Daniel’s body covered his, a press of muscle and bare skin and heat, hips still rolling against his, and Daniel’s hand closed around his cock and stroked. Jack lost himself in it, pressing himself back against Daniel and forward into his hand, feeling the skin of his back slick up with sweat between them as they moved. Daniel’s lips moved against his shoulder, and Jack knew Daniel must be able to taste his sweat. “Keep your eyes open, Jack. It’s a good sight, my hand on your cock.”
How the hell could he just say things like that?
Jack was panting when he managed to force his eyelids up, watching the rapid slide of Daniel’s square, strong hand over him, the way his thumb caught and spread his moisture, the practiced twist in his wrist.
He was close, closecloseclose when that hand stopped abruptly, leaving him reeling, stopped so dead he felt like a cartoon character hitting a brick wall. Daniel was fumbling behind him with the lube he must have grabbed when he stepped away earlier, and talking again, damn him, talking again.
“I’d like to fuck you now. No, don’t move, that posture is still the hottest goddamned thing I’ve ever seen. I’d love to keep you like that, open you with my fingers, watch you fuck yourself back on them. I’d like to watch that for a long time, but I really don’t think I can wait, so you’d better relax quickly.”
Daniel’s fingers were slick and fast, two at once, press and slide and twist, and Jack let out a long shuddering breath. He let his head drop further and his back arch more, I’m ready like a semaphore signal from every line of his body.
When Daniel pushed into him it was blunt and still too fast, just this side of painful, with his fingers clenched around Jack’s hipbones so tight his knuckles paled. He stilled for a long, shuddering moment before he started to move again, with strokes that were quick but long, nearly all the way out of Jack and then an agonizingly long slide back in.
It was close again, sparking through his whole body, almost unbearable, but Daniel didn’t move his hands, so Jack started to shift his weight off one of his arms. Fast enough to be startling, Daniel reached up and pinned both his wrists to the wall.
“No, you really should stay how you are. I could keep fucking you like this, and you would love it. You would absolutely love it, but you wouldn’t be able to come from just that, would you?”
Jack’s motion wasn’t so much the headshake of someone trying to say no as of someone trying to clear his head, but his head refused to clear. Daniel still didn’t stutter or moan, but he sounded like he was holding onto that barely by his fingernails, and his voice wasn’t uninflected so much as strangled.
“I could keep fucking you as hard as I wanted, as long as I could stand, and you would just ride that wave and moan and pant, just like you’re doing now. Maybe eventually you would beg. And when I was done, you would still be like this, crazy with want. You would still be presented to me, open for me to play with, ready to do anything I wanted you to, even after I’d used you.”
And finally, finally, Daniel lost it. Finally, he breathed a sound into Jack’s ear that wasn’t verbal; a gentle laugh, maybe, mixed with a warm sound of approval and appreciation and want.
“Jack, your whole body just shook at that. That was amazing.”
The bastard, Doctor Daniel Jackson was just a complete bastard, but then he was taking pity, and his hand was calloused and strong and confident. Daniel pressed his forehead against the back of Jack’s neck and the hot gasps against his skin, between his shoulder blades, made him shudder. It was all the painful grip of his fingertips and the slide of his hand and the rough shove of his hips and Jack was being driven hard against the wall oh god shit this is happening now right now fuck oh god Danny.
And soon Daniel followed him, until they were holding each other up against the wall gasping and quaking. Jack’s heart was pounding like he’d just run a marathon, and vague thoughts about old age and heart attacks and what a way to go were chasing each other around his brain when he realized that, against all odds, obviously by reason of some sort of pure insanity, Daniel was still talking.
“Honestly I thought you hated it when I talked. It was starting to give me a complex, actually.”
Jack just let himself slide bonelessly down the wall and laughed.
SG1 1800 words PWP
Jack/Daniel. Well, Daniel/Jack, really.
Rating: porn porn porn porn porn.
Warnings: More than a little bit of power-exchange d/s dynamic, but not really any kinky trappings to go with it. No spoilers.
AN: This is so ludicrously self-indulgent. Also? Porn in past tense is hard. Thanks to amara_m for the look-over!
Every once in a while, Daniel got chatty on him.
It shouldn’t be surprising, not in the least; not when Daniel could, and would, talk about anything, at great length, with little provocation, in any one of two dozen languages. Not when Jack had tortured himself for years by carefully rationing out the times he was allowed to stare at those perfectly shaped lips, follow their quick movements with his eyes. The timbre of Daniel’s voice, sound stripped of all meaning, would compete with the pounding of blood in his ears until Daniel asked, “are you even listening?” and he would answer, “Obviously not. Try again, in smaller words,” and pretend it was just the same old snark.
Jack wasn’t embarrassed by sex. He liked sex. He liked sex, and he liked sex with men a whole lot, and he really, really liked sex with Daniel. His career dictated that he couldn’t shout it from the rooftops, but it’s not like he was some kind of blushing virgin.
Except Daniel was trained as an anthropologist, and apparently they surgically removed a person’s sense of embarrassment during the second year of an anthropology doctorate (no, wait- that’s a joke about doctors. Fuck it, he’s derivative when he’s this horny). And so Daniel can talk about Jack’s remarkable refractory period, for a man of 49, or the way his scrotum twitches when Daniel presses his tongue just there, or his pilomotor reflex (“My what?” “Goosebumps,” Daniel had said mildly, still running his fingernails very lightly over Jack’s back).
The thing was that Daniel talked about sex just as calmly- if anything, far more calmly- than he did any other subject. His words wouldn’t speed up, wouldn’t start to tumble over themselves in excitement the way they did in response to a ruin or an inscription, and his voice stayed controlled and level and almost inflectionless. Even when Jack was gasping or biting on his knuckles to keep quiet, Daniel would still be speaking in full sentences, usually with multiple clauses and polysyllabic words. It was infuriating.
They had been moving right along at a pace Jack thoroughly approved of, tearing at each other’s clothes like teenagers and kissing like they were trying to climb inside each other, no talking, no noises except groans, when Jack accidentally set him off this time.
He braced his forearms against the wall, let his head drop to rest against them, and pushed his ass back towards Daniel in mute appeal. Daniel, damn him, placed his hand firmly against the curve of Jack’s side, just above his hip, and said, “You know, that is a remarkably arousing sight.”
“For God’s sake, Daniel-”
“I’m just saying that I’ve never seen you in that posture before. I’ve seen a few women like that, but no men outside of porn, and certainly not you. I didn’t really expect it to affect me so much, though I suppose that’s predictable.”
“I enjoy our little naked coffee-klatches, but if you would just fuck me already,” Jack said through gritted teeth, fighting to stay still through a wave of intense self-consciousness.
“No, I don’t think I will quite yet.” Daniel sounded almost absent-minded, tossing off the answer while his mind stayed focused on more important matters. He slid straight back into his monologue.
“After all, that’s a position of pretty intense sexual submission. The back of your neck is bared, your spine is arched, your ass is presented.”
How the hell does a guy just say things like that? As Jack tried to lift his head, meaning to straighten and turn and shut him up by force if necessary, Daniel’s hand closed hard on the back of his neck.
“Don’t move. I’m looking.” Daniel’s voice was still deceptively mild, but Jack felt himself forced back down until his forehead rested again on his wrists, and had to stifle a noise. “There’s a great deal of evolution going into that pose, and my reaction to it. I don’t know how you could make that more animalistic if you tried. Well, actually, I do know.”
Daniel didn’t release the back of his neck, but he gripped Jack’s hip hard with his other hand, and slid one leg between Jack’s. Then he leaned over, lips just brushing the shell of Jack’s ear, breath a humid puff that made the skin of Jack’s neck twitch in pleasure, and said very simply, “Spread.”
Jesus Christ.
Jack’s whole body shuddered violently as Daniel kicked his legs apart.
“There. Now you couldn’t make that posture any more arousing. You could, of course, beg, but you won’t; that’s not your style.”
Somewhere inside a haze of lust Jack found himself thinking that he actually might. Then Daniel’s hands left him, and Jack shivered as his body warmth retreated. He wanted to lift his head, turn around, but it suddenly seemed unbearably heavy. “Where are you-”
“Still looking,” Daniel said, and for the first time his voice didn’t seem so much just calm as tightly controlled. “Don’t worry, Jack. I don’t think there’s a chance in hell you’re not getting fucked this evening.”
Then he was back, hands tracing Jack’s shoulders, down the long line of his back and over his ass, firm and a little demanding. For the first time, Jack found himself struggling to keep his mind on Daniel’s words, not content to let them just wash over him this time.
“I wonder what it does for you? You can feel my eyes all over you, you know your submission turns me on-” And here Jack felt Daniel’s cock press against his ass, steady insistent rolls of Daniel’s hips. He tried to suppress his urge to buck backwards against it. “-and it would certainly be good if that worked for you. I would hope for an elevated pulse-” Daniel’s fingers there, against his throat, just for a few seconds. “-and a flush.” The back of Daniel’s hand, cool on his cheek. “I would certainly hope-” And then Daniel’s knuckles brushed gently from his balls all the way up the length of his cock. He whimpered, and could hear the smile behind the word as Daniel answered, “Good.”
Then Daniel’s body covered his, a press of muscle and bare skin and heat, hips still rolling against his, and Daniel’s hand closed around his cock and stroked. Jack lost himself in it, pressing himself back against Daniel and forward into his hand, feeling the skin of his back slick up with sweat between them as they moved. Daniel’s lips moved against his shoulder, and Jack knew Daniel must be able to taste his sweat. “Keep your eyes open, Jack. It’s a good sight, my hand on your cock.”
How the hell could he just say things like that?
Jack was panting when he managed to force his eyelids up, watching the rapid slide of Daniel’s square, strong hand over him, the way his thumb caught and spread his moisture, the practiced twist in his wrist.
He was close, closecloseclose when that hand stopped abruptly, leaving him reeling, stopped so dead he felt like a cartoon character hitting a brick wall. Daniel was fumbling behind him with the lube he must have grabbed when he stepped away earlier, and talking again, damn him, talking again.
“I’d like to fuck you now. No, don’t move, that posture is still the hottest goddamned thing I’ve ever seen. I’d love to keep you like that, open you with my fingers, watch you fuck yourself back on them. I’d like to watch that for a long time, but I really don’t think I can wait, so you’d better relax quickly.”
Daniel’s fingers were slick and fast, two at once, press and slide and twist, and Jack let out a long shuddering breath. He let his head drop further and his back arch more, I’m ready like a semaphore signal from every line of his body.
When Daniel pushed into him it was blunt and still too fast, just this side of painful, with his fingers clenched around Jack’s hipbones so tight his knuckles paled. He stilled for a long, shuddering moment before he started to move again, with strokes that were quick but long, nearly all the way out of Jack and then an agonizingly long slide back in.
It was close again, sparking through his whole body, almost unbearable, but Daniel didn’t move his hands, so Jack started to shift his weight off one of his arms. Fast enough to be startling, Daniel reached up and pinned both his wrists to the wall.
“No, you really should stay how you are. I could keep fucking you like this, and you would love it. You would absolutely love it, but you wouldn’t be able to come from just that, would you?”
Jack’s motion wasn’t so much the headshake of someone trying to say no as of someone trying to clear his head, but his head refused to clear. Daniel still didn’t stutter or moan, but he sounded like he was holding onto that barely by his fingernails, and his voice wasn’t uninflected so much as strangled.
“I could keep fucking you as hard as I wanted, as long as I could stand, and you would just ride that wave and moan and pant, just like you’re doing now. Maybe eventually you would beg. And when I was done, you would still be like this, crazy with want. You would still be presented to me, open for me to play with, ready to do anything I wanted you to, even after I’d used you.”
And finally, finally, Daniel lost it. Finally, he breathed a sound into Jack’s ear that wasn’t verbal; a gentle laugh, maybe, mixed with a warm sound of approval and appreciation and want.
“Jack, your whole body just shook at that. That was amazing.”
The bastard, Doctor Daniel Jackson was just a complete bastard, but then he was taking pity, and his hand was calloused and strong and confident. Daniel pressed his forehead against the back of Jack’s neck and the hot gasps against his skin, between his shoulder blades, made him shudder. It was all the painful grip of his fingertips and the slide of his hand and the rough shove of his hips and Jack was being driven hard against the wall oh god shit this is happening now right now fuck oh god Danny.
And soon Daniel followed him, until they were holding each other up against the wall gasping and quaking. Jack’s heart was pounding like he’d just run a marathon, and vague thoughts about old age and heart attacks and what a way to go were chasing each other around his brain when he realized that, against all odds, obviously by reason of some sort of pure insanity, Daniel was still talking.
“Honestly I thought you hated it when I talked. It was starting to give me a complex, actually.”
Jack just let himself slide bonelessly down the wall and laughed.