All these years and I've just now noticed how damn cute he is? I'm shaking my head here. That hat. That geekish, wonderful, sexy hat.
Men have lots of fantasies. I'm no exception. But since when did one of them include slowly removing that hat? Bringing my hand up and taking the rim, then ever so gently lifting it from his head, allowing it to fall back? And the string across his neck, like some ancient piece of jewelry, like one of his Egyptians would wear to tease and tantalize--
Once the hat was gone, where would I start?
Maybe brushing my hand over the top of his short hair? Feeling the softness as each strand flexed under my palm? Yeah. Then lodging my hand at the back of his neck and using that -- and only that -- to bring him closer to me?
Oh yeah.
The small pulse at his left temple. I'll go there next. Might even be a bit of sweat just making its way down from his hairline. It's warm here on P7Y-whatthefuck. Should I catch the sweat with my finger -- or my tongue? Tongue. Lightly. Caressing. Just barely -- there. Then I'll place a soft, gentle kiss against his temple and I'll hold my lips there, thrilling at the throbbing of his life pulse.
His eyes will go wide. Blue and wide and those beautiful eyebrows will arch and he'll have that sweet, clueless, "Jack, what the hell are you doing now", look on his face. One arm will rise, his fingers will do their little archaeologist dance and then, maybe, if I've been real good (and I have), that same arm will move toward me, wrap around my waist--
Maybe.
I think I'll kiss the other temple next. Then his closed right eye -- reverently. Lovingly. Then move to his left eye and repeat. Would it be possible that at that point, he'd lift his head fractionally? Just enough to let me know -- that I can move further down? Let my lips drift to his -- lips?
Maybe.
Perhaps, with my lips just so over his, it would be a good time to bring him the rest of the way into me? Use my other arm, slide it around his back and pull? And perhaps -- he'd come?
Maybe.
And maybe -- his lips will part under mine? I'll be able to slip my tongue into the sweet, wet warmth?
Please.
Would it be at all likely that his tongue would then lightly, wonderfully, lovingly, duel with mine?
Yes please.
It would be nice if Teal'c stayed with Carter on the other side of this damn edifice. Real nice if they stayed over there for, oh, say, another thirty or forty minutes? Because I wouldn't stop at his hat.
No, I wouldn't. Couldn't. My hands would no longer be mine. He would, but my hands wouldn't. They'd be eager to remove the jacket, then pull up the black tee shirt. My eyes would be just as eager to see that pale expanse of skin revealed, to watch as excited goose bumps make their appearance and maybe -- he'd moan.
Maybe.
You know my hands couldn't stop there. Wouldn't. The belt. The button. The zipper. All conspiring to hide what I really want. My hands would have to work at it and my mouth would be full and my ears jumping for joy at his groans, groans that expressed his pleasure and anticipation.
I have to taste his skin. Even as hands work the pants down, I have to taste his skin. And maybe he'd want me to?
Maybe.
And maybe he'll step out of his pants and boxers and kick them aside and then -- he'd be wearing nothing but that hat. And his boots.
Cute.
Sexy.
Could my knees take what I want to do next?
Maybe.
I think I'll have to try.
My hands will have found purchase on his hips. Or better yet -- his ass. Yeah.
Please.
By now, I'd be face to -- in my face. Pulsing, straining, needing attention. His cock. Needing me. My mouth. And I HAVE to give it to him. It's time, right?
God, he's so beautiful. Naked or dressed, but honestly, so much better naked. All of him, there for me. To feel, to touch, to revel in, to kiss and bite, to love. And I will.
I will.
"Danny? You look damn cute wearing nothing but that silly hat and your boots."
Ah-oh.
"Jack?"
Daniel just turned around, brush in hand. He's looking at me as though I've lost my mind.
"Jack, you okay?" He wiggles his head at me. The glare is hiding his eyes so I step closer.
"I'm fine."
"Do you know what you just said?" he asks me, eyes wide.
"I have a very good imagination. I know exactly what I just said. It gets boring on these planets while you and Carter do your thing."
"Boring? You're bored right now?"
I nod helplessly and hold out my arms. "What can I say?"
"So when you're bored -- you imagine me -- naked?"
"You're wearing your hat. Well, actually, you're not. I've already pushed it back off your head. But it's hanging back there," I make a motion with my finger, indicating the back of his neck.
"Oh."
"And your boots. Did I mention you're still wearing your boots in my imagination?"
"Um, yeah, yeah you did."
We're staring at each other.
"Um, Jack?"
"Yeah, Danny?"
"Why don't you find out how long Carter will be?"
Damn. He said that so innocently. If I hadn't been looking at his eyes, I'd have never known the truth. He's a devil, my Danny.
"Carter," I say into my mike.
Sir?
"How much longer?"
Maybe -- thirty, forty minutes?
I'm smiling. "Take your time, Carter," I say, just barely hiding my eagerness.
Yes -- Sir.
I love it when I surprise Carter.
"Jack?"
"Yes, Daniel?"
"Do you want to remove my hat, or shall I?"
I close my eyes and thank every single god known to man, beast and alien.
"Let me, please?" I say softly.
"Please do, then."
And it starts. My imagination needs work. This is far superior.