'Matinee', Cam/Daniel, NC-17

Yes, you read that right. Cam!porn is everywhere in the SG-1 fandom these days, and the likes of synecdochic and ivorygates infected me.

Try not to hate me, OTPers.  There is no romance here.

4,070 words.  Beta and arm twisting encouragement by ivorygates, who somehow has TAKEN OVER MY BRAIN!  

( read 'Matinee' )

 

Except before Cam could summon the energy, Jackson was rolling off of him; still rolling, rolling onto his side, showing Cam his back. It was a good back, strong and broad, flushed pink and damp with perspiration. It didn’t look particularly tense. But the moment felt tense, and Cam wanted to break that tension by reaching out and putting his hand to that back; wanted to try to recapture some of the warmth of a minute ago.

 

Two things stopped him. He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he’d get; whether his touch would be welcomed or not. And, if it was unwelcome, he really didn’t want to know.

 

He turned his face to the ceiling. Why should reaching out be up to him, anyway? Who was he kidding? This had been Jackson’s show all the way. He consciously relaxed into the pillow and let his eyes slide shut.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jackson had answered his doorbell wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, peering at Cam inquiringly. “Did I forget something?”

 

“Nope. You busy?”

 

“No.”

 

Cam shrugged. “I was bored, so I ran out to pick up some movies. Practically in your neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by and see if you were maybe bored, too.”

 

Jackson ran his hand through slightly damp hair. “We’ll need food.”

 

Cam grinned and thrust the stack of DVDs at Jackson. “And beer.” He took a step to the left and bent down to pick up the two six-packs he’d set against the wall. He held them up for Jackson’s approval.

 

Jackson scrunched up his nose at the first one. “Too hoppy. This one’s fine.”

 

“’s yours.” Cam stepped into the apartment and Jackson closed the door behind him.

 

~~

 

By the time the second movie was over, one and a half pizzas had been devoured. Cam, bare feet (“make yourself comfortable,” Jackson had said) up on the coffee table, had just opened his fifth beer, and Jackson, tucked into the corner of the couch beside him, was just finishing his third.

 

“Well, that didn’t suck completely,” Cam said judiciously.

 

“Oh, it came close,” Jackson pointed out.

 

The credits began to roll. Cam swung his feet to the floor and leaned forward to pick up the DVD box, which had wound up under the table, pushed aside to make more room for the pizzas. “Way to waste two hours.” The couch shifted beneath him as Jackson moved. Cam straightened up. “So, should we…?” He stopped short as something touched his foot. “Sorry,” he said, pulling his foot in. Jackson’s foot followed.

 

“I think we should,” Jackson murmured, running his toes up Cam’s ankle.

 

Cam turned his head to stare.

 

“Want to waste a couple more hours?” 

 

If Jackson was fooling with him, Cam couldn’t tell. “Don’t play me,” he said.

 

“I wouldn’t,” Jackson replied, as his toes caressed Cam’s ankle bone. Abruptly, he stopped and rose to his feet. “Come on,” he said, and it didn’t sound much like an invitation from where Cam was sitting.

 

But where he was looking, right at eye level, now that was inviting. He lifted his gaze to look at Jackson’s face, but he was already turning away and heading for the bedroom.

 

Fifteen seconds later, Cam followed.

 

The bedroom was empty when he walked in, and the door to what had to be the connecting bathroom was shut. Cam made a mental note to get rid of some beer as he unsnapped and (carefully) unzipped his jeans. He’d just stepped out of them and was draping them over a chair when Jackson came out of the bathroom, naked and hard, a towel dangling from his hand. They eyed each other, Jackson’s eyes lingering on the bulge in Cam’s boxer-briefs.

 

“Next,” Cam said, and then cleared his throat.

 

“There’s mouthwash,” Jackson told him as he walked to the bed.

 

Cam went into the bathroom and shut the door. Mouthwash, he mused as he swished some around, puckering at the strong flavor. Did that mean there was going to be kissing? Somehow he didn’t think he and Jackson were quite on those terms. But then again, how did they wind up on fucking terms? It was a good question, but he couldn’t actually picture himself asking it.

 

He stripped off the rest of his clothes, sniffed at his underarms suspiciously, checked in the mirror for dangling snot and food between the teeth. Spared a second to stare down the (confused) horny guy looking back at him. By then his arousal had lessened just enough to let him take a comfortable piss. How many beers had he had again? Sure was feeling good to get rid of them. A good, long beer piss ranked right up there with orgasm. Nearly.

 

He flushed the toilet, gave his hands a quick wash and dry, and opened the door, snicking off the light. Jackson was sitting on the edge of the turned-down bed, waiting for him, cock in hand. Cam thought (not for the first time) that he must have hit his head or something. This had to be a dream; maybe an hallucination.

 

Jackson’s warm, sure hands felt real enough as he pulled Cam down onto the bed and pushed him into place. The tongue swiping across the head of his cock felt damn real. His balls were without a doubt inside Jackson’s mouth. Cam bit back a piteous moan. Christ, man, don’t give it up so soon.

 

The mattress, and Cam, bounced up and down as Jackson moved around, positioning himself head towards the foot of the bed. Then his hands urged Cam over onto one hip and brought him face to face (in a manner of speaking) with a sweetly curved erection that (close-up) was one of the prettiest things Cam thought he’d ever seen. “Oh,” was about all he could say, and that was probably a huff of laughter that he heard (and felt – warm air gusting against his skin, cock jerking in frantic response).

 

Then he was swallowed, not quite whole, but, man, close enough, and Jackson’s tongue was moving, swirling, painting patterns, writing freaking sonnets. Cam’s eyes rolled back and his lashes fluttered as he managed to stutter, “L-l-linguist,” before an impatient hand reached down to pull his head forward, and cock brushed along his cheek.

 

Cam turned his head and opened his mouth wide. Took Jackson in. Started sucking blindly. Giving head wasn’t one of his particular strong suits on a good day. He liked the taste and the feel of cock in his mouth, enjoyed the slickness as he coated it with his saliva, loved the movement of warm flesh against his tongue, between his lips. He tried hard, but he knew he just wasn’t all that good. He certainly couldn’t reduce someone to a quivering wreck (fight it). Some folks (Jackson) were just naturals. Others (Cam) had to work harder.

 

And it was awfully tough to concentrate on doing even his poor best when Jackson was doing his best to (and just might succeed at) sucking his brains out through his dick. But where his mouth might let him (them) down, Cam was mighty good with his hands. He brought one hand up to fondle Jackson’s sac, and was rewarded with a galvanic jerk and teeth scraping against his cock. He froze in self-defense.

 

Jackson’s body settled back down against the mattress and he made a humming sound, and patted Cam on the thigh. Cam moved his fingers gently, tentatively. More humming (which incidentally felt fan-damn-tastic). Bolder now, Cam moved his other hand around Jackson’s rear and stroked whisper-soft along the cleft. No humming, and Jackson reached back and knocked Cam’s hand away.

 

Okay, that wasn’t hard to interpret, and Cam nodded his head carefully, Jackson’s cock moving with him. He curved the spurned hand around Jackson’s hip and pressed his fingers down into muscular ass. A reciprocal hand squeezed one of his butt cheeks, and he knew he’d gotten this part right. Ass, good. Hole, bad. He let his nails dig in a ways, and Jackson arched against him.

 

Cam let Jackson’s cock nearly fall out of his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head, and sucked it back down as far as he could. He felt (barely) teeth against his cock again. A hint? He bobbed his head quickly a few times and then gently let his jaw tighten, slowly sinking his teeth in about a third of the way down the shaft.

 

The hand on his butt clenched hard, and the mouth that had been (oh, baby) suckling insistently transformed itself into a Hoover. Cam’s toes curled and his hips tried to thrust, but there was really nowhere to go, because now he was in all the way (sweet Jesus). The small section of his brain that was still working told him he needed to attend to Jackson, whose thighs were starting to quiver from holding still (hold still or lose skin).

 

Cam opened his jaws, already braced for the in-fuck that swiftly followed. Jackson’s hand curved around the back of his skull, more caress than pressure (twitching fingertips telling a story of carefully reined in need and desire). Cam’s mouth was little more than a receptacle now, but he was more than fine with that. Jackson’s tongue was doing incredible things, and his plunging cock was coating Cam’s tongue with salt and sour, and Cam was getting closer and closer to the top of the mountain.

 

He shifted his grip on Jackson’s balls, pressing his middle finger against the perineum. Almost in the same second, it seemed, Jackson was rubbing him firmly in the same spot. Cam whimpered, saw white against closed eyelids, and came, hips bucking wildly. His neck arched back and the cock in his mouth started to slide out. Jackson’s hand (scraping roughly against Cam’s balls as it passed) flew down to hold his cock in place, but Cam could do nothing but moan around the tip of it.

 

Cam shot again, aware only of the moist cavern that drew his sperm into it and of knuckles hitting against his lip, over and over. The explosion of musky flavor on his tongue startled him. He opened his eyes to see (inches away) Jackson furiously fisting his cock. Cam groaned and closed his mouth around the head, licking at it, capturing a salty strand. Jackson’s body shook, and Cam swallowed his seed and released a final spurt of his own.

 

Lethargy promptly seized him. Jackson’s hand had stopped its pumping. Cam lapped lazily at the head of the cock in his mouth, savoring the last droplets of come. Jackson gave Cam’s cock one last long suck and released it with a sigh, rolling onto his back. Cam licked dry lips and sagged into the mattress, gasping.

 

His heart was still slamming in his chest when Jackson moved to the side of the bed and stood up. “I’m going to shower,” he said.  “Don’t go anywhere.”

 

“Couldn’t move if I wanted to,” Cam said honestly, earning himself a flash of the Jackson dimples. And, oh wow, hey. There were dimples in the ass, too, as it walked away. Purty.

 

He probably dozed for a few minutes. The shower being turned off got his attention, and his bladder (the downside of drinking beer) was starting in to demand some attention of its own. He sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over the side.

 

The bathroom door opened and Jackson came out with a towel around his hips and a washcloth in his hand. He stopped short as Cam rose to his feet. “I thought you weren’t going to move.”

 

“Gotta get rid of some more beer.”

 

“Oh. Guess you can wash up in there, then,” Jackson said, handing Cam the warm washcloth.

 

“Thanks.” Cam tried on a smile. “Won’t be a minute.”

 

This time, with an actual orgasm very fresh in his memory, Cam didn’t think pissing even came close. And a warm washcloth couldn’t compare to a warm, sinuous tongue. Christ, what that boy could do. The flushed face in the mirror grinned at him loopily. Might as well use the mouthwash again. You never knew. Didn’t look like he was going to get kicked out on his ass just yet.

 

When he came out of the bathroom, Jackson had lost the towel and was sitting propped up against the headboard, holding up lube and a wrapped condom in one hand. “Do you want to get fucked?” he asked in a tone that made the hairs on the back of Cam’s neck prickle. “In a little while?”

 

“Not especially.” Not yet.

 

Jackson nodded and flipped the condom onto the nightstand. Cam stood beside the bed, feeling awkward. Maybe it showed, because Jackson squinted up at him and scooted over, making room for him. Cam sank down onto the bed and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “You don’t go that route?” he asked as casually as he could.

 

“Not usually,” was the answer he got, and it left him wondering, because he’d thought the reaction he got during the blowjob meant no way, no how. Maybe it had meant not you. Fair enough. Show some caution, hold something back; he understood that totally. Maybe there was someone else (or had been); someone for whom Jackson reserved that final intimacy. Intimacy being just about the opposite of whatever the hell it was the two of them were doing here.

 

Cam picked at the hem of a pillowcase. “Lots of ways to skin a cat,” he observed placidly.

 

Jackson blinked. “Let me guess. Something your Grandma used to say?”

 

Cam grinned slowly. “All the time. Not in this context.”

 

“No,” Jackson said with raised eyebrows. “There’s a lovely thought, though.”

 

Cam shuddered dramatically. “Oh, yeah. Moving on.”

 

Jackson’s idea of moving on turned out to be him reaching for Cam’s limp cock and giving it a squeeze. Cam yelped. “Sorry?” Jackson said, not letting go.

 

“’s okay. Just wasn’t expecting it.”

 

“Have I been that predictable up ‘til now?” Jackson squeezed again, slowly.

 

It took Cam a second. “Oh, right; first time I’ve squawked. Nah, I just thought we were talking, you know?” He waved a hand in the air and let it come down on Jackson’s hip.

 

“Yeah,” Jackson said. “We’re done.”

 

There really wasn’t anything to say to that, so Cam kept his mouth shut and let his hand stroke down Jackson’s leg.  And up again. The hand on his cock squeezed intermittently, but not so much as a twitch of reaction so far. And Jackson was noodle-limp, so what the hell was his rush? Just a good way to end a conversation? He certainly hadn’t seemed that nuts about foreplay earlier.

 

To be fair, neither one of them had needed it. Cam smiled a little and reached out to toy with a nipple. So maybe Jackson was actually a total freak for foreplay. He worked a leg in between Jackson’s and scooted closer. Jackson palmed his balls, rolling them gently. Cam ducked his head and latched onto the nipple he’d been teasing, licking it slow, like it was covered in thick chocolate. Jackson murmured something and put a warm hand on Cam’s nape.

 

It was kind of like pre-coital cuddling. Quiet and soft. A nice slow build…

 

“Teeth are good.”

 

Okay, maybe not so slow. Cam bit, not too hard. Got a sigh and a thumb stroke behind his ear. He smiled and bit again and held the nipple firmly, letting his tongue dance over it. Jackson’s body literally undulated, assuming he had the definition right. He wasn’t about to stop and ask the language expert. He switched to the other nipple.

 

Jackson’s hand left Cam’s cock and trailed up his body. There was a pinch to his nipple, strong enough to have a wow factor built into it. His hand was taken, and moved down to cover Jackson’s cock, which was sitting up and taking notice, thank you very much. Cam gave it some awkward-angled pumps and rocked his jaw in syncopation, chewing on Jackson’s nipple. Fingers traced where his lips met Jackson’s body.

 

“Okay,” Jackson said after a while.

 

Cam stopped and raised his head. Jackson took hold of his shoulders and rolled him onto his back. Cam let Jackson’s cock slip through his fingers and stretched his arms up over his head. His turn, apparently. Jackson knelt up over him, and for a second he looked almost confused, like he didn’t know what to do next. Or maybe where to begin. Cam parted his legs and tried to look seductively appetizing.

 

And it must have worked, because Jackson headed straight for his cock, which was at that half-way stage between completely limp and nearly erect (is the glass half-full or half-empty?), and took it into his mouth easily and began to do wondrous things. Cam curled his hands into fists on the pillow and sucked in air. Being brought to erection this way was one of his favorite things (warmth and suction and liquid caress), and he bit his lip to keep from blurting that information out. Later would be enough time to share that; or never. He put a slightly shaking hand down and buried it in Jackson’s hair and wallowed happily.

 

By the time Jackson raised his head and started looking around for the lube, Cam’s erection had passed vertical and was angling towards his stomach. Jackson was even harder than he was, and Cam figured he’d been pumping himself while he sucked. Either that or he had one damn fine tasting cock and it drove men wild. He was grinning at that thought when Jackson looked up from where he was settling on his knees between Cam’s thighs.

 

Jackson’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You having a good time?”

 

"Hell, yeah,” Cam answered.

 

Jackson’s grin looked almost shy, and faded quickly as he turned his attention away from Cam’s face and back down to his crotch. “Hold this,” he said, pushing Cam’s cock down against his stomach. “But let me.…” He waved the lube.

 

Cam brought both hands down and used his fingertips against the sides to press his cock horizontal. The lid of the lube snicked open, and he gasped as the cool gel hit the heated skin of his balls. Jackson took his sweet time, drizzling lube slowly (goddamn), slowly up the underside of his shaft to the head and back down again, coating his sac thoroughly this time. The lube clicked shut and hit the mattress next to Cam’s pillow.

 

Jackson took his own cock in hand and pressed it against Cam’s, sliding it around, slicking it up. And then he put his hands on the mattress and let his hips start moving, and their two erections were slipping and grinding against each other, and slow and quiet seemed like a long time ago. Cam grabbed onto the pillow and rocked his hips up.

 

They had a rhythm after a while, and Jesus, it was good. Jackson’s eyes were closed and he had this blissful look on his face that made Cam feel damn talented. He almost wished he’d said yes to the fucking, because if Jackson was getting off this much just rubbing against him, imagine what sinking his cock into a tight asshole would do for the man. Jackson picked up speed and Cam sucked in air through his nostrils. “Yeah,” he urged.

 

Jackson’s eyes shot open and his chest heaved. And his hips stilled. Cam pursed his lips, ready to form a question, and then Jackson lowered his head and buried his face against Cam’s neck. He didn’t move or speak, kept his weight on his forearms, did nothing except pant. Cam waited him out, trying to ignore the throbbing demands of his cock. Something was definitely wrong here.

 

Jackson rolled off, onto his back. “You okay?” Cam asked after a few seconds.

 

“Yeah. It’s just your turn.”

 

“Huh?” Cam rose up onto an elbow and Jackson tugged, and it all became clear. “Sure. Pleasure.” He got himself situated between widespread thighs, lowered his body, and began to move, a little slower than Jackson had been going before he’d had his mini-freakout, or whatever it was. Get them both back on the same page, he figured, then increase the pace. Should be a sprint to the finish line from there….

 

“But it’ll be my turn again soon. So don’t get too comfortable.” Jackson was looking over Cam’s shoulder.

 

Cam nearly choked. He crashed to a halt. “What, am I doing it wrong?”

 

Jackson looked at him then. Eyebrows up, confusion evident. “How the hell could you do this wrong?” 

 

Cam gaped at him, wordless.

 

“Except maybe by not moving.”

 

“Okay.” Whatever. “Moving. I’m moving.” He moved, and Jackson exhibited a fine spirit of cooperation by moving with him, and they were still both hard and slick and it felt so good. So, so good. But he didn’t let himself get too comfortable.

 

It wasn’t long before Jackson was pushing at him with hard hands, and Cam found that he didn’t mind being manhandled at all, under the right circumstances. On his back, he spread his legs eagerly and pulled Jackson down onto him, his hands slipping in the sweat that glistened on his shoulders. Jackson started humping like there was no tomorrow, and Cam wished (just for a second) that that were true, because he was going to be sore from this (glorious) pounding.

 

Jackson’s face got red, and he sounded like a man having a heart attack (or a really, really good orgasm). And then his body was shaking, and Cam smelled semen and felt it splash onto his belly. He gripped Jackson’s shoulders and thrust up, grinding his pelvis against him.

 

Jackson’s weight sank down onto him as he cried out wordlessly. Cam held on and fucked his hips up frantically, barely able to move. Jackson’s body shook; he groaned, he sank his teeth into Cam’s shoulder.

 

Cam’s orgasm roared through his body, causing it to jerk underneath the weight that imprisoned it. Toes curled, eyes rolled back. He wanted to shout out his delight and pleasure, but there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. His fingers ached where he clutched Jackson.

 

Sheer. Fucking. Heaven.

 

And then Jackson rolled away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Cam (right side of his face mashed into the pillow) opened his eyes, the sun was sinking in the sky. Jackson was sitting next to him, propped up against pillows, glasses on and a book open across his naked lap. Cam tilted his head, looking up. Jackson looked down at him with no particular expression on his face and said, “You fell asleep.” His voice sounded soft and satisfied.

 

Various answers crossed Cam’s mind, but he settled for, “Did not.”

 

Jackson closed his book and leaned away to place it on the nightstand, but Cam could still see one dimple. The glasses were laid aside, too, and Jackson slid down on the bed until their bodies were aligned but not touching. He propped his head up on one bent arm and stared thoughtfully at Cam, who began to feel like an insect on the end of a pin.

 

Cam stretched with deliberate slowness, straightening out the curves his body had assumed while he slept. There was no pull of dried semen across his abdomen as he moved. Jackson must have cleaned him while he slept. He reached across with his top leg and stroked Jackson’s foot with his big toe while watching Jackson’s pupils dilate. “If I’m in the way, you let me know.”

 

For the first time since they’d come into the bedroom, Cam felt like he was really seeing Jackson. Walls down, mask off. Open, natural, relaxed. Revealing…next to nothing.

 

Blue eyes looking a little lost, Jackson said, “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

 

END

Sequel: http://sid.dreamwidth.org/70366.html "Idyll"