Sex, Sex and More Sex
Sex, Sex and More Sex
By Mitch
"Jack! I don't think-"
"Isn't that the problem?" Jack shouted, emphasizing his anger by slamming his locker door.
On the other side of the row of lockers an SF grabbed his jacket from the bench by his knee and fled, leaving the two male, human members of SG-1 alone in the room.
"Look, I just meant-"
"That marine sergeant had it coming but it's not up to you to…to…" he drew a deep sigh. "Daniel," Jack said, the name coming out almost querulous. "Daniel," Jack tried again, but shook his head and sank mutely to sit on the bench that held his shoes. He pulled them on and then propped his arms on his knees, staring at the brown leather laces.
The archaeologist closed his own locker and leaned back against it. "I know. I should have…" He stared at the floor, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes dark and open too wide. "I just-"
Jack rose swiftly and stepped toe to toe with the slumped man. Daniel jerked his head up and his eyes opened even wider as he stared at the leader of his team.
"No," Jack whispered hoarsely, his lips staying parted, his eyes flicking up and down Daniel's face. "I know you were just trying to make the guy back off while you finished the negotiations. He could have endangered the mission but I told you it's my job to...to..."
Jack seemed to struggle for words for a moment. "Let's drop it and…" Jack's breathing was harsh. The pulse at his neck was easily visible, it was beating so hard, so fast.
"Then we should," Daniel paused and tilted his head toward the door at Jack's right. He followed up his non-verbal suggestion that they leave the room by shrugging one shoulder in the direction of the door. "I mean, should we-"
"Daniel," Jack interrupted him but before he could get another word out the archaeologist interrupted him too.
"Jack?" he challenged, speaking a little louder, a little more insistently.
Jack reached out and laid a hand on Daniel's arm, about halfway between his wrist and his elbow. He leaned a few inches closer. "Daniel-"
"Jack?" he said challengingly as rapidly as he had the first time.
"Dani-" Jack placed his fingers firmly over Daniel's mouth, stopping him in mid-interruption. "Daniel," he said softly, his fingers still on full, red lips. Then the colonel drew a deep breath and tucked his chin slightly before forging ahead. "We should…go meet up with Teal'c and Carter. But later we'll…"
Daniel was frozen in place, his nostrils flaring a little with each heavy exhalation. The veins at his temples expanded to their maximum capacity as blood rushed up and down his body. Sweat broke out between his shoulder blades. Jack held him pinned, completely captive by the touch of the man's fingertips to lips.
"Later…we'll…" Jack left the sentence unfinished and slid his fingers down off Daniel's lips. The slight pressure pulled the archaeologist's bottom lip open and Jack stared at the moist flesh.
"Um," Daniel said, blinking rapidly. His arms were still crossed over his chest and though he was still slumped against his closed locker, his body hummed with tension. Daniel nodded. It was the only movement he could manage to make. Besides breath, nodding was all his body could do at the moment, and that small movement was only possible because Jack had released his paralyzing hold on him.
"Later," Jack promised Daniel and himself, the word coming out like a blood oath.
Still mute, Daniel nodded again.
*~*
Later turned out to be three days. Friday Jack stepped into Daniel's office, barely avoiding Siler as the sergeant hurried down the hall dripping gray paint from the left side of his soaked uniform. His forehead bore a brilliant red gash, testament to his unlucky meeting with a ladder. "Yeah, I'm glad I don't have his size twelves," Jack said, staring at the gray boot prints in the hall left in the wake of the hapless man.
"Hum?" Daniel called, his attention focused on the scattered documents on his desk.
"Just Siler," Jack said, taking sideways steps to the desk, his gaze still on the slippery pools of paint. An airman stepped on one of the pools and fell. Jack flinched in sympathy as the man's elbow impacted the floor. "Need to make sure maintenance visits your hall before you leave here," he muttered. "No way you'll avoid that wet paint."
"Hum?" Daniel repeated. He tapped a pencil on a paper and then slid it to the side before turning his attention to the one underneath.
"Danny," Jack said ducking down to get into the archaeologist's line of sight. "Hey, you going to be done here by sixteen hundred?"
"Done?" Daniel said, gaping up at Jack. "Hardly. This…this…" he said, waving at the piles of papers. "This will take months. Months." He sighed as if in exasperation at the enormity of the task at hand, but followed it up with a happy little smile as he perused the stacks spread before him. "Months."
Jack frowned and cleared his throat. "Let me rephrase that. Can you be ready to leave the mountain by sixteen hundred?"
"Four pm?"Daniel asked, glancing up briefly before turning back to his work.
Jack stood by the desk, his hand now resting lightly on one of the stacks of papers, his fingertips inches from Daniel's right hand. After a moment Jack slid his hand forward until the tip of his thumb touched the webbing between Daniel's thumb and his index finger. Jack rubbed lightly back and forth a few times. He stared at Daniel and said nothing verbally.
Slowly Daniel looked back up at Jack. "Um." He swallowed, his eyes locked on Jack's.
"Sixteen hun-four pm," Jack said, his thumb still rubbing that sensitive spot. "That doable for you? I'll meet you at the elevators."
"Uh." Daniel blinked and then nodded, a quick little movement. "Where are we going?" he asked, slightly breathlessly.
"Out of town for a couple of days. You got stuff in your locker? Pack a bag?"
"Doable? Yeah. Yeah," Daniel repeated. "Four pm."
A crash in the hallway behind Jack grabbed his attention and he withdrew his touch from Daniel, leaving the civilian to go help an airman who was busy coordinating the cleaning up of Siler's latest trek through the halls of the SGC.
Daniel swallowed and adjusted his glasses. Then he took them off, cleaned them and put them back on only to remove them instantly. The spot between his thumb and finger tingled! He stared myopically at it and then brought it to his mouth. He sucked at the flesh, finally pulling it from his mouth with a kissing noise.
Five minutes later he found himself cleaning his glasses again. He fled his office, skirting the safety cones and mop-wielding crew. "What happened out here?" he asked one of the men.
"Sergeant Siler," was all the man said. He shrugged returned to his cleaning duties.
Daniel marveled at the line of wet marks dotting a trail out of sight down the curved hall as he made his way carefully to the locker room that had been the scene of that spectacular explosion between him and Jack earlier this week. Internal explosion. A huge one.
So different than their usual spats, the yelling, the hand slapped on a table or foot stomped on the ground. This had been…different. Internal. And huge. Absolutely huge. A culmination of uncountable touches, uncountable tense looks exchanged in an uncountable number of places, situations, times. All crashing together in that touch of Jack's fingers on his lips.
Daniel brought the tender, recently sucked and kissed spot on his right hand up to his lip and held it there. The feel of Jack's touch on his lips, on his hand burned him!
He pulled things from his locker, stuffed them in a black duffle bag and took it to his office. At four that afternoon he threw the strap of the bag over his shoulder and walked briskly to the elevators.
End of Part One