Off-world sex in a tent presented its own unique problems, Daniel decided. First there was the lack of a nice, absorbs-all-jolts mattress; two bedrolls and sleeping bags did not a comfortable bed make, although it was one step up from the hard dirt of that fuck-for-we-might-die-tomorrow cave on P4X-119.
Then there was the lack of sound-proofing. This was the greatest problem of all where Daniel was concerned.
Jack – master of stealth even when the gods of climax were being praised – could be silent when he had to be. Biting the back of Daniel’s neck, mouthing his hair or, if Daniel was driving, shoving his face in a pillow usually helped.
Daniel, on the other hand, was loud. Always had been.
When he discovered the joy of jerking off as a boy, he also discovered the joy of giving voice to his pleasure. He made sex dates with himself when his foster parents went out. He thinks he may have scared next door’s dog, Buster, more than once. Buster didn’t like howling.
But what the hell was the point of sex if you couldn’t let rip with the occasional expletive, moan or groan?
Early on in their relationship, Daniel learned that sometimes it turned Jack on to be silent.
It turned Daniel on to know Jack was being silent. Because Jack was sexy as fuck when he was being silent. Tonight, Jack was being sexy as fuck.
Sam was asleep, due to take fourth watch. Teal’c was taking first, sitting maybe ten feet away from their two-man pup.
Daniel hoped Teal’c was indulging in some sneaky kel-no-reeming, because he really didn’t want to explain the half-stifled sounds he was trying not to make.
Daniel, desperate for Jack to fuck him after being on secondment with SG-11 for too long, had wheedled, begged and eventually resorted to palming Jack’s hard dick through his BDUs to get what he wanted.
So Jack was fucking him (after some bitching about kneeling on inadequately supportive bedding) very much against his better judgement but unable to deny Daniel anything.
They kept on their black Ts, but that was all. Jack was stroking deep into Daniel, holding Daniel to him with one arm around his waist and the other around his chest. He was grinding and holding … holding, then pulling out just a little and pushing and holding again.
Daniel wanted to scream. Knowing that he couldn’t made him want to do it more.
It was perfect fucking. It was fucking perfect. Taking him to the edge and holding him there.
A ragged moan escaped Daniel lips and Jack whispered a soft “Shhh” in his ear, kissing his neck for good measure and then placing his hand over Daniel’s mouth. And fuck didn’t that just add a whole other layer of the forbidden to it all. Whispering, letting the breathy words escape between Jack’s fingers, Daniel gave in to his need to make some kind of noise, any kind of noise. “Fuck me, fuck me, god, you’re so fucking hot. Hard, Jaa… want you so fucking much. Harder.” Muted, stifled, indecipherable pleas fought their way out of him.
Jack tightened his hand on Daniel’s mouth, producing a muffled high-pitched moan from Daniel, who pushed back hard onto Jack’s dick and fumbled a hand back to hold on to his ass.
Daniel felt Jack’s body tense, knew he was close; knew that they were both going to come and it was probably going be together.
He wrenched his head to the side, twisted slightly, dislodging Jack’s hand, eager for a hard, devouring kiss. He wanted Jack to swallow his cries, take every ounce of his love into him.
“Please,” Daniel moaned into Jack’s mouth, kissing and kissing. It went on and on.
Then, without warning, Jack stopped moving and held himself to complete stillness. Daniel responded in kind.
In an almost absurd moment of clarity, Daniel realized they were kneeling in the dark in a tent on a planet whose designation they wouldn’t remember beyond the mission report write up, suspended in that split second between not-coming and coming. He was startlingly aware of the shaft of pale moonlight through a gap in the tent flap; the rustle of trees in the forest; the scent of midnight-dewed grass.
And Jack’s mouth, that had been delving Daniel’s so fiercely only moments before, went soft and lax and his lips moved unbearably tenderly against Daniel’s as he whispered, “Oh, Daniel, baby.”
What the Man Wants NC-17
Date: Jan. 15th, 2009 08:21 pm (UTC)First there was the lack of a nice, absorbs-all-jolts mattress; two bedrolls and sleeping bags did not a comfortable bed make, although it was one step up from the hard dirt of that fuck-for-we-might-die-tomorrow cave on P4X-119.
Then there was the lack of sound-proofing. This was the greatest problem of all where Daniel was concerned.
Jack – master of stealth even when the gods of climax were being praised – could be silent when he had to be. Biting the back of Daniel’s neck, mouthing his hair or, if Daniel was driving, shoving his face in a pillow usually helped.
Daniel, on the other hand, was loud. Always had been.
When he discovered the joy of jerking off as a boy, he also discovered the joy of giving voice to his pleasure. He made sex dates with himself when his foster parents went out. He thinks he may have scared next door’s dog, Buster, more than once. Buster didn’t like howling.
But what the hell was the point of sex if you couldn’t let rip with the occasional expletive, moan or groan?
Early on in their relationship, Daniel learned that sometimes it turned Jack on to be silent.
It turned Daniel on to know Jack was being silent. Because Jack was sexy as fuck when he was being silent. Tonight, Jack was being sexy as fuck.
Sam was asleep, due to take fourth watch. Teal’c was taking first, sitting maybe ten feet away from their two-man pup.
Daniel hoped Teal’c was indulging in some sneaky kel-no-reeming, because he really didn’t want to explain the half-stifled sounds he was trying not to make.
Daniel, desperate for Jack to fuck him after being on secondment with SG-11 for too long, had wheedled, begged and eventually resorted to palming Jack’s hard dick through his BDUs to get what he wanted.
So Jack was fucking him (after some bitching about kneeling on inadequately supportive bedding) very much against his better judgement but unable to deny Daniel anything.
They kept on their black Ts, but that was all. Jack was stroking deep into Daniel, holding Daniel to him with one arm around his waist and the other around his chest.
He was grinding and holding … holding, then pulling out just a little and pushing and holding again.
Daniel wanted to scream. Knowing that he couldn’t made him want to do it more.
It was perfect fucking.
It was fucking perfect.
Taking him to the edge and holding him there.
A ragged moan escaped Daniel lips and Jack whispered a soft “Shhh” in his ear, kissing his neck for good measure and then placing his hand over Daniel’s mouth.
And fuck didn’t that just add a whole other layer of the forbidden to it all.
Whispering, letting the breathy words escape between Jack’s fingers, Daniel gave in to his need to make some kind of noise, any kind of noise. “Fuck me, fuck me, god, you’re so fucking hot. Hard, Jaa… want you so fucking much. Harder.” Muted, stifled, indecipherable pleas fought their way out of him.
Jack tightened his hand on Daniel’s mouth, producing a muffled high-pitched moan from Daniel, who pushed back hard onto Jack’s dick and fumbled a hand back to hold on to his ass.
Daniel felt Jack’s body tense, knew he was close; knew that they were both going to come and it was probably going be together.
He wrenched his head to the side, twisted slightly, dislodging Jack’s hand, eager for a hard, devouring kiss. He wanted Jack to swallow his cries, take every ounce of his love into him.
“Please,” Daniel moaned into Jack’s mouth, kissing and kissing.
It went on and on.
Then, without warning, Jack stopped moving and held himself to complete stillness. Daniel responded in kind.
In an almost absurd moment of clarity, Daniel realized they were kneeling in the dark in a tent on a planet whose designation they wouldn’t remember beyond the mission report write up, suspended in that split second between not-coming and coming. He was startlingly aware of the shaft of pale moonlight through a gap in the tent flap; the rustle of trees in the forest; the scent of midnight-dewed grass.
And Jack’s mouth, that had been delving Daniel’s so fiercely only moments before, went soft and lax and his lips moved unbearably tenderly against Daniel’s as he whispered, “Oh, Daniel, baby.”
And coming had never felt so good.