JD-Ficathon 2010 entry for Sid - Smells Like Home by Rowaine
Title: Smells Like Home
Author: Rowaine
Summary: Down time at the cabin. Takes place early in S7.
Rating: R
Word Count: 1800, give or take
Recipient: Sid (sidlj)
Prompt: who wanted Season 7, at Jack's house or cabin, with optional prompts of "walking on eggshells", "newly regained memories", and "not the same". I've done what I can to include all - let me know how close it came, k Sid?
Notes: This is my first non-crossover SG story, and I barely remember S7, so be gentle. Endless thanks to clepto-coonie for the beta - brownies are on their way, dear!
Notes.2: Please forgive the tardiness - we moved last weekend and the cable people procrastinated in hooking us up. Hope this is to your liking ;)
Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine, and there's precious little about the order of my words that probably hasn't been used before somewhere else. No money or barterable goods has been offered to me for this story. Pity that.
The weather in Minnesota was mild, sunlight brightly shining against the calm water of the pond. Jack led a tired and still confused Daniel out of his truck and to the deck, instructing him to rest there with a good book while he took supplies inside. This wasn't the first trip they'd taken to the cabin, not that Daniel seemed to remember anything from before.
Putting away groceries, Jack checked on his friend out the window. Instead of a book, Daniel had mission report folders stacked up on the table, a small frown slowly pushing his glasses further down his nose. With a snort, Jack put the "good stuff" in the coffee maker and left a couple of steaks out to thaw. Only after the coffee was finished did he rejoin the younger man.
"Here ya go, Dannyboy," he said softly, placing a huge mug into the waiting hand. "Figured you smelled it," he chuckled, watching Daniel sip from the steaming brew without lifting his face from the reports.
Jack leaned back on his lounger, letting the sunlight warm his tired bones. The usual roller coaster of activity that was SGC norm had turned into a dare devil stunt rally over the last few months. No one was relieved more than he that Dr. Daniel Jackson was back amongst the living. His best friend, his balance, was returned from the land of glowy squiggles -- not quite back to his perky old self, but well on the way. The next ten days would hopefully give them time to reconnect, something Jack needed very badly. Not that it'll ever be that kind of connection, but still...
Dozing off with pleasant thoughts of Daniel's private grin over something in the mission report he was reading, Jack allowed himself a light nap before dinner.
* * * * *
Daniel watched his friend fall asleep from behind the latest folder. He might not remember much of the past six years, but multi-tasking and Jack-watching seemed to be natural habits. Two formerly married men, each past their prime in various ways, as different as night and day from the outside. It hadn't taken him long to realize how much they had in common if one were to look below the surface. Due to the military environment, Daniel had ignored the sparks of attraction that seemed to flow between them at first. A career Air Force Colonel wouldn't be caught, alive or dead, in anything that smacked of a homosexual relationship. And yet, Jack was here, and so was he. The forced downtime was a mixed blessing -- Daniel needed it to absorb what he'd missed, to reattach memories that should be so easy to call upon. But his mind refused to settle on mission reports.
Sparkling late afternoon sunlight made Jack's silver hair gleam, making it look so touchable and soft. In sleep, most of his worry lines melted away. Let's face it, Daniel, that is a fine looking man. The occasional twitch of muscle brought his eyes roaming down the toned surface of Jack's body. With a gasp, his eyes focused in on a much more interesting twitch, one that refused to be concealed by the loose track pants. Some dream he's having! Wonder who the lead character is?
Daniel had no illusions that he might stand a chance with Jack. Bone-cracking hugs notwithstanding, there was no ignoring the military mindset. But he could watch, and want, and dream a bit.
With a frustrated shake of his head, he took a long gulp of his cooling coffee and forced his mind back to the last six months of reports.
* * * * *
"Hi honey, I'm home!"
The strong aroma of baking bread greeted him as he tugged off running shoes and jacket. It wasn't often that his lover got into the mood to bake, and he was going to show his appreciation in every way possible.
Stalking into the kitchen, he was pleased to see the younger man in only sleep pants, his torso and feet blissfully bare for his visual pleasure. Waiting patiently for Daniel to wipe his hands off, Jack slipped his arms around his lover and kissed the nape of his neck. Light nibbles traveled from shoulder to earlobe, and Danny shivered.
"How much time til it's done?"
"About an hour. I just put it in the oven."
"Good, round one won't take more than that."
Laughing, Jack slapped his ass and pushed him toward the bedroom.
* * * * *
Daniel had given up. The mission reports would wait, and he was getting frustrated with himself. Watching Jack was a guilty pleasure at best, and with his friend moaning quietly, Daniel's mind refused to tune it out. How ungrateful was he? Leaving the man to his privacy, he went inside to tour the cabin.
Steaks were set out on the counter, marinating in a covered bowl as they thawed. A bag of baking potatoes sat nearby, and a quick check of the refrigerator showed the makings of a salad. Restless, and feeling more than a little guilty for having watched leered at Jack's sleeping form, Daniel grabbed the flour canister and a large mixing bowl. Where the knowledge came from he might not know, but it was soothing to toss ingredients together and pound the mixture into submission. There wasn't time to a slow rise, but placing the dough inside a warm oven would produce acceptable results.
He spent the next hour putting things away, dusting (through several sneezes), and generally trying to keep his hands occupied. Nothing of the memories that had surfaced indicated that he had a physical relationship with his friend. Nothing! So why was his body insisting that he should pounce right now? The light sweat he'd worked up by cleaning began to annoy him, building on his previous frustration and sending him to shower. Cool water helped calm his body's reaction a bit. He refused to pleasure himself thinking of Jack. It just didn't seem fair to either of them.
Toweling off, he pulled on a pair of sleep pants and went to deal with the bread. It wasn't close to the release he wanted, but pounding the dough and shaping it let him work off some tension. He turned the oven's temperature up and split the loaves down the center, giving them an egg-and-butter coat.
With a glance around the kitchen, Daniel groaned. Another round of cleaning. Of course. Flour made a horrible mess, no matter how easy the job was. He put the last bowl into the drain to dry when he screen door creaked open.
* * * * *
Sleep-bleery eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light of his cabin. I know I needed the rest, but damn, this old body's just not springing back like it should. His cabin was the one place he allowed himself to lower the hard won instincts of his Spec Ops training, and he reveled in the freedom of it. Except for times like these...
When Jack woke from half-falling off the lounger, he noticed at once that Daniel was no longer beside him. He also noticed -- between his nose and the sense-memory of his dream -- the heavenly smell of baking bread. It would've been too easy to revert to his combat training. He should, he knew, if only to get his brain back on track. But the lovely dream kept playing in the background of his mind, and there was Daniel, in his kitchen, wearing low-slung PJ pants and wiping his hands off. Just like his dream.
Either I'm not awake yet, or this is my one golden opportunity.
He made a show of rubbing his eyes as he staggered toward the coffee pot. Without apparent thought, and internally kicking himself for it, Jack threw a kiss to Daniel's cheek as he refilled his mug. Eyelids mostly closed, he watched his friend for any sign of disapproval. Other than a shell-shocked expression, he seemed to have gotten away with it. Don't know how this'll play out, but maybe it's time...
Gobsmacked, Daniel closed his mouth with a click. His memories were shot, but from what he knew of Jack, the man had to be more aware than he was acting. Which either meant he was testing the waters, or he was planning a joke.
Where's the handbook on dealing with military types making gay come-ons? If I could only remember... We weren't together before, were we? He would be walking on egg shells right now, trying to see if I recall anything that personal. But no, it's more like he's -- Daniel's head jerked up to look Jack straight in the eye. The raw emotion showing on his friend's face confirmed his revelation. He wants me. He's always wanted me. And only after I Ascended did he realize how much he lost. Oh Jack, was this always between us?
Looking away and clearing his throat, Daniel fiddled with getting plates and silverware out of the cabinets. He wasn't sure how to open a conversation that suddenly looked like a minefield. But why does there need to be any talk right now?
With a deep, fortifying breath, he pushed away from the counter and turned back to his friend. Jack looked utterly miserable. Well, maybe this will cheer him up. Placing his hands on Jack's shoulders, Daniel pulled their bodies together and proceeded to kiss the breath out of the older man. Several seconds of stunned silence passed before Jack could respond, then all heaven broke loose.
Hands roamed, legs tangled, and arousal exploded. They rubbed against each other in a frantic pace, as if stopping would make reality crash in and separate them. Loud moans announced the climax of their frotting, and both men heard the chiming of bells.
Leaning against Jack, Daniel's mind slowly came online. He chuckled, then jerked out of Jack's arms and raced to the oven. Pulling out the slightly over-done bread, he placed them on the counter to cool and turned back to his friend.
"Almost ruined the loaves. The bells... well, I thought it was just you, but the timer went off."
Jack's heart calmed its racing. If Daniel had sprung from his arms out of regret, he might have needed to flee the country. Or the universe. He took a deep breath and sighed in satisfaction. "Love that smell, Danny."
With a grin, the younger man agreed. "Fresh baked bread is the best. Hope it turned out alright."
Moving into Daniel's arms, Jack clarified, "The bread will be fine. I meant... the smell of satisfied archaeologist."
Daniel felt his face warm, but couldn't disagree. "Well, maybe you should keep me satisfied then."
Author: Rowaine
Summary: Down time at the cabin. Takes place early in S7.
Rating: R
Word Count: 1800, give or take
Recipient: Sid (sidlj)
Prompt: who wanted Season 7, at Jack's house or cabin, with optional prompts of "walking on eggshells", "newly regained memories", and "not the same". I've done what I can to include all - let me know how close it came, k Sid?
Notes: This is my first non-crossover SG story, and I barely remember S7, so be gentle. Endless thanks to clepto-coonie for the beta - brownies are on their way, dear!
Notes.2: Please forgive the tardiness - we moved last weekend and the cable people procrastinated in hooking us up. Hope this is to your liking ;)
Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine, and there's precious little about the order of my words that probably hasn't been used before somewhere else. No money or barterable goods has been offered to me for this story. Pity that.
The weather in Minnesota was mild, sunlight brightly shining against the calm water of the pond. Jack led a tired and still confused Daniel out of his truck and to the deck, instructing him to rest there with a good book while he took supplies inside. This wasn't the first trip they'd taken to the cabin, not that Daniel seemed to remember anything from before.
Putting away groceries, Jack checked on his friend out the window. Instead of a book, Daniel had mission report folders stacked up on the table, a small frown slowly pushing his glasses further down his nose. With a snort, Jack put the "good stuff" in the coffee maker and left a couple of steaks out to thaw. Only after the coffee was finished did he rejoin the younger man.
"Here ya go, Dannyboy," he said softly, placing a huge mug into the waiting hand. "Figured you smelled it," he chuckled, watching Daniel sip from the steaming brew without lifting his face from the reports.
Jack leaned back on his lounger, letting the sunlight warm his tired bones. The usual roller coaster of activity that was SGC norm had turned into a dare devil stunt rally over the last few months. No one was relieved more than he that Dr. Daniel Jackson was back amongst the living. His best friend, his balance, was returned from the land of glowy squiggles -- not quite back to his perky old self, but well on the way. The next ten days would hopefully give them time to reconnect, something Jack needed very badly. Not that it'll ever be that kind of connection, but still...
Dozing off with pleasant thoughts of Daniel's private grin over something in the mission report he was reading, Jack allowed himself a light nap before dinner.
* * * * *
Daniel watched his friend fall asleep from behind the latest folder. He might not remember much of the past six years, but multi-tasking and Jack-watching seemed to be natural habits. Two formerly married men, each past their prime in various ways, as different as night and day from the outside. It hadn't taken him long to realize how much they had in common if one were to look below the surface. Due to the military environment, Daniel had ignored the sparks of attraction that seemed to flow between them at first. A career Air Force Colonel wouldn't be caught, alive or dead, in anything that smacked of a homosexual relationship. And yet, Jack was here, and so was he. The forced downtime was a mixed blessing -- Daniel needed it to absorb what he'd missed, to reattach memories that should be so easy to call upon. But his mind refused to settle on mission reports.
Sparkling late afternoon sunlight made Jack's silver hair gleam, making it look so touchable and soft. In sleep, most of his worry lines melted away. Let's face it, Daniel, that is a fine looking man. The occasional twitch of muscle brought his eyes roaming down the toned surface of Jack's body. With a gasp, his eyes focused in on a much more interesting twitch, one that refused to be concealed by the loose track pants. Some dream he's having! Wonder who the lead character is?
Daniel had no illusions that he might stand a chance with Jack. Bone-cracking hugs notwithstanding, there was no ignoring the military mindset. But he could watch, and want, and dream a bit.
With a frustrated shake of his head, he took a long gulp of his cooling coffee and forced his mind back to the last six months of reports.
* * * * *
"Hi honey, I'm home!"
The strong aroma of baking bread greeted him as he tugged off running shoes and jacket. It wasn't often that his lover got into the mood to bake, and he was going to show his appreciation in every way possible.
Stalking into the kitchen, he was pleased to see the younger man in only sleep pants, his torso and feet blissfully bare for his visual pleasure. Waiting patiently for Daniel to wipe his hands off, Jack slipped his arms around his lover and kissed the nape of his neck. Light nibbles traveled from shoulder to earlobe, and Danny shivered.
"How much time til it's done?"
"About an hour. I just put it in the oven."
"Good, round one won't take more than that."
Laughing, Jack slapped his ass and pushed him toward the bedroom.
* * * * *
Daniel had given up. The mission reports would wait, and he was getting frustrated with himself. Watching Jack was a guilty pleasure at best, and with his friend moaning quietly, Daniel's mind refused to tune it out. How ungrateful was he? Leaving the man to his privacy, he went inside to tour the cabin.
Steaks were set out on the counter, marinating in a covered bowl as they thawed. A bag of baking potatoes sat nearby, and a quick check of the refrigerator showed the makings of a salad. Restless, and feeling more than a little guilty for having watched leered at Jack's sleeping form, Daniel grabbed the flour canister and a large mixing bowl. Where the knowledge came from he might not know, but it was soothing to toss ingredients together and pound the mixture into submission. There wasn't time to a slow rise, but placing the dough inside a warm oven would produce acceptable results.
He spent the next hour putting things away, dusting (through several sneezes), and generally trying to keep his hands occupied. Nothing of the memories that had surfaced indicated that he had a physical relationship with his friend. Nothing! So why was his body insisting that he should pounce right now? The light sweat he'd worked up by cleaning began to annoy him, building on his previous frustration and sending him to shower. Cool water helped calm his body's reaction a bit. He refused to pleasure himself thinking of Jack. It just didn't seem fair to either of them.
Toweling off, he pulled on a pair of sleep pants and went to deal with the bread. It wasn't close to the release he wanted, but pounding the dough and shaping it let him work off some tension. He turned the oven's temperature up and split the loaves down the center, giving them an egg-and-butter coat.
With a glance around the kitchen, Daniel groaned. Another round of cleaning. Of course. Flour made a horrible mess, no matter how easy the job was. He put the last bowl into the drain to dry when he screen door creaked open.
* * * * *
Sleep-bleery eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light of his cabin. I know I needed the rest, but damn, this old body's just not springing back like it should. His cabin was the one place he allowed himself to lower the hard won instincts of his Spec Ops training, and he reveled in the freedom of it. Except for times like these...
When Jack woke from half-falling off the lounger, he noticed at once that Daniel was no longer beside him. He also noticed -- between his nose and the sense-memory of his dream -- the heavenly smell of baking bread. It would've been too easy to revert to his combat training. He should, he knew, if only to get his brain back on track. But the lovely dream kept playing in the background of his mind, and there was Daniel, in his kitchen, wearing low-slung PJ pants and wiping his hands off. Just like his dream.
Either I'm not awake yet, or this is my one golden opportunity.
He made a show of rubbing his eyes as he staggered toward the coffee pot. Without apparent thought, and internally kicking himself for it, Jack threw a kiss to Daniel's cheek as he refilled his mug. Eyelids mostly closed, he watched his friend for any sign of disapproval. Other than a shell-shocked expression, he seemed to have gotten away with it. Don't know how this'll play out, but maybe it's time...
Gobsmacked, Daniel closed his mouth with a click. His memories were shot, but from what he knew of Jack, the man had to be more aware than he was acting. Which either meant he was testing the waters, or he was planning a joke.
Where's the handbook on dealing with military types making gay come-ons? If I could only remember... We weren't together before, were we? He would be walking on egg shells right now, trying to see if I recall anything that personal. But no, it's more like he's -- Daniel's head jerked up to look Jack straight in the eye. The raw emotion showing on his friend's face confirmed his revelation. He wants me. He's always wanted me. And only after I Ascended did he realize how much he lost. Oh Jack, was this always between us?
Looking away and clearing his throat, Daniel fiddled with getting plates and silverware out of the cabinets. He wasn't sure how to open a conversation that suddenly looked like a minefield. But why does there need to be any talk right now?
With a deep, fortifying breath, he pushed away from the counter and turned back to his friend. Jack looked utterly miserable. Well, maybe this will cheer him up. Placing his hands on Jack's shoulders, Daniel pulled their bodies together and proceeded to kiss the breath out of the older man. Several seconds of stunned silence passed before Jack could respond, then all heaven broke loose.
Hands roamed, legs tangled, and arousal exploded. They rubbed against each other in a frantic pace, as if stopping would make reality crash in and separate them. Loud moans announced the climax of their frotting, and both men heard the chiming of bells.
Leaning against Jack, Daniel's mind slowly came online. He chuckled, then jerked out of Jack's arms and raced to the oven. Pulling out the slightly over-done bread, he placed them on the counter to cool and turned back to his friend.
"Almost ruined the loaves. The bells... well, I thought it was just you, but the timer went off."
Jack's heart calmed its racing. If Daniel had sprung from his arms out of regret, he might have needed to flee the country. Or the universe. He took a deep breath and sighed in satisfaction. "Love that smell, Danny."
With a grin, the younger man agreed. "Fresh baked bread is the best. Hope it turned out alright."
Moving into Daniel's arms, Jack clarified, "The bread will be fine. I meant... the smell of satisfied archaeologist."
Daniel felt his face warm, but couldn't disagree. "Well, maybe you should keep me satisfied then."