J/D Kinkathon
The Kinkathon post is now archived here with all the commentfics except a handful that had been deleted along with deleted LJ accounts before the comments were exported.
The complete listing of fics is here, with updated linkage.
The complete listing of fics is here, with updated linkage.
Jack can't stop staring.
Like any of a hundred other missions, Daniel is leaning against his backpack, journal propped against his raised knees, glasses pocketed. Long used to writing by a flickering campfire, a small electric lantern gives off more than enough feeble light for Daniel to write about the day. Jack leans back against his own pack, legs stretching out, hands behind his head -- staring. And listening. To Carter's footsteps squelching in the mud outside, where Teal'c keeps her company. Their voices are muted by the occasional loud pop from the campfire, the splatter of raindrops on the tent roof. Loudest of all are the rhythmic scritch of Daniel's pen and the thudding of Jack's heart. His heartbeat echoes in the pulse of his cock, hardening with each graceful stroke of Daniel's pen.
Jack can't stop staring.
He can't stop staring at Daniel's eyes, heavily outlined in deep, inky blue. At his eyelashes, so incredibly long and featherlike. At Daniel's elegant fingers tipped with glossy, pink fingernails and wrapped around a chubby pen scritching across the journal's page. At Daniel's full lips, wet and glistening, shaping the otherwise soundless words. At Daniel's tongue, darting out to moisten, or taste, the still-shiny rose-pink lips. Jack guesses strawberry, licks his own lips, and stares.
Jack could watch Daniel's mouth all night long. Jack fucking loves that mouth.
The scritching stops, the lips don't.
"Kiss me."
Jack manages not to jump out of his musings, but his cock pushes against his BDUs at the order and sweat blossoms across his skin. "You know better than that. Not on a mission, Daniel, no matter how pretty you look."
Daniel snorts, but his eyelashes flutter traitorously. Jack wonders how they'd feel sweeping across a nipple, or feathering across the head of his cock. The dark eyeliner makes the blue of Daniel's eyes deeper, makes his eyelids look half-hooded. Like how Daniel looks when he wants to watch but is about to surrender to the pleasure. In the lantern-light, his pupils are large and black, only limned in blue. "I want you to tell me how I taste. How the - the lipgloss tastes. I'm thinking...." Daniel does a slow lick, the one Jack always thinks of as Daniel's I-love-the-taste-of-your-come lick. "Strawberry? It's kind of sweet-- It's kind of tart, too, I guess. They said the color and taste changes depending on who's wearing it; the oils in our skin."
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"Mmm. Goals are good. It also means that it would most certainly be in my best interests to get you to kiss me." Eyelashes flutter; lips are slowly licked.
"It'd be kind of hard to explain why I'm suddenly wearing your lip gloss. The shaman said it'd last at least a couple of days."
"Jack, I can't even lick it off--" Daniel demonstrates, again. Slowly.
"But it's designed to stick to lips, not a cup, and not your tongue. And no, I won't lick your mouth either." Carter had been intrigued, but the natives allowed only certain people to wear the "paint of truth." Even the shaman that had decorated Daniel only wore it on special occasions, like when SG-1 was their first visitor to ever show up through the Stargate. The colors supposedly amplified the senses, allowed the wearer to understand and empathize. To feel more deeply, see what's hidden, hear and speak the truth, and taste ... taste something. Maybe taste something like Jack's hard cock. Crap. While offworld, Jack usually had no trouble keeping his thoughts and energy focused on the mission. It was his job, and he was good at it. But tonight, all of Jack was focused on Daniel, and the way Daniel looked, and the way Daniel would look with those outlined eyes, fluttering lashes, painted nails, and full, glossy lips wrapped around Jack's cock. Jesus. Jack chokes back a moan and clenches his hands into fists, bringing them down to hide his erection.
So of course Daniel notices. Daniel has never needed any purported alien magic to see whatever Jack tries to hide. Glossy pink lips smile a dirty, not-allowed-on-a-mission smile. "You like it, Jack. You like my lips smeared with gloss, my eyes rimmed in kohl." Daniel places his pen in the spine of his journal; his glossy fingertips ruffle the page edges at the top. "You really like my nails painted--" Daniel pops two fingertips in his mouth and suckles them obscenely a few moments. Pulling them out, he admires his fingers like they were ancient, painted relics. He presents both hands to Jack, waving his fingers for comparison. "And wet. They look slick, slippery, like after I've--" A blush, a real one, stains his cheeks. Not at what he was about to say, but where he was about to say it. Or maybe not. Daniel cocks his head a little; eyelashes flutter, a little uncertain, a whole lot devious. "This," fingertips shimmer, his tongue slips out to moisten moist lips, "this is something you'd like to see again?"
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"You can be lucky now, Jack." Daniel sets his pen and journal aside, and scrambles up on his knees, keeping his back to the zippered entry. His nails catch the light, flashing and flirting at Jack when they unfasten Daniel's belt and quickly flick open the buttons of his BDUs. Daniel palms his growing cock through his briefs, pressing hard with the heel of his hand, nails glinting. His wet fingertips leave a damp patch and darken the white cotton. Teal'c's low rumble is heard, followed by Carter's voice. Another wet patch appears at the head of Daniel's cock and he spreads his thighs wider.
The sparkle and shine of pink makes Jack's breath catch in his throat and his cock leak with pre-come. "Daniel," he whispers, a little harsh, a little desperate, "we can't."
Daniel only pushes down the front of his briefs, just enough so he can get to his balls. He quickly licks the fingers and palm of his right hand. In his left hand, his fingertips hold the head of penis, sliding the foreskin back. He rubs his wet palm across the head, slicking both further. His fingers curl around the shaft and pull. In his grip, his cock swells and lengthens, and glistens. Daniel's cock fills quickly, rigid and dark against the white briefs, the pale hand, the sliding pink glimmers.
"We are not." Daniel strokes his cock, hard and fast; his breath comes in gusts. "Before we got together I'd have to masturbate on missions all the time. Outside, alone. But it's raining, so I'm staying in for this one." He takes his balls in hand, settles his ass on his heels, moans quietly, and masturbates.
Jack inhales the familiar scents of sweat and arousal coming off Daniel. Jack knows what this is. At least some of it. This is Daniel in his I just need a quick hand-job so I can get to sleep; you wanna do it or you wanna watch? mode. It'll all be over in a minute or two. All Jack has to do is close his eyes and wait. When Daniel's done, Jack will head out and jerk off in the woods like a guy is supposed to. Not kneel down with your innocent white briefs pushed low and your thighs spread wide and rolling your balls. Not stroking a cock while you had painted nails, dark eyeliner, and strawberry-flavored lips. Not your own cock.
But Jack can't stop staring.
Daniel's almost there. Those outlined, half-closed eyes travel from Jack's face to Jack's erection, to Jack's fingers digging into his thighs. Jack's own gaze flits from Daniel's glistening, open mouth, to the smoky, hooded eyes, to the whirl of Daniel's strokes, pale skin, pink shimmer, and dark cock.
Then Daniel rises up from his heels, and Jack can't stop staring. Daniel pulls in a ragged breath, arches his back, and he's coming. His hand finally slows; glossy pink fingertips grip the cockhead, and semen spurts in glossy streaks. The tent floor is painted in shimmering ribbons of white. Daniel breathes out harshly, "Oh, Baby."
Jack's orgasm hits him like a bolt out of the blue. His fingers clench in the cloth of his BDUs and dig into the muscles of his thighs. Jack comes with a bit-back groan and a muttered curse, creaming his pants like a fucking kid over his first girlfriend.
Jack doesn't open his eyes when Daniel's mouth covers his. Daniel's kiss is sweet, and tart. "Yeah, Baby," Jack whispers against the soft, moist lips, "definitely strawberry, but with a hint of lemon."
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I still like the idea of your original makeup prompt, but this just started out to be about the nail polish, and I found out Jack l liked the idea of makeup, too. :D
Thank you!
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I like how you worked the makeup into the fabric of the story, as a requisite for negotiating with a new culture. I also like the brief mention of Sara showing us that Jack's set up for a Pavlovian sex response to make up because of her.
Love this line:
"Baby," the only-use-it-in-the-bedroom name, and it better have an orgasm on one end or the other
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It's always iffy putting Sara in a sexual scene, but I think it's only natural for them to bring up their wives on without guilt or bad associations. Glad you felt that worked well.
We're all such suckers for the term "Baby." :)
Thank you, very much!
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Absolutely. The characters don't exist in a vacuum. They have histories. Prior relationships. Back story. Mind you they aren't going to be thinking constantly of Sara / Sha'uri / Becky Templeton from 10th grade/ etc. but there will be times that the situation calls up a natural association with a past experience. This is a good example of one such time. :)
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*dances*
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Daniel in makeup has got to be gorgeous. Glad I made it work for you. :)
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And they get to play with make-up when they get home! \o/
ETA: The nail polish idea was mine. *g*
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I didn't know it was your prompt, but it was the one that kept catching my imagination when reading through them. I've never really thought much about polish or makeup on Daniel, and I'm even kind of surprised I went for it, but I'm glad I did!
Glad it worked for you. Thanks! \o/
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Thank you! It wasn't as commentfic-y as I'd intended, but I'm glad it worked for teh hot.
*hugs with yay*
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