It’s only a matter of time, we both know it even if we’re not saying anything. We both know that I’m going to jump him, if he doesn’t jump me first that is. We both know that it's going to be quite soon now. And we’re both looking forward to it. At least, I’m looking forward to it: and by the way that Jack’s pretending not to look at me every couple of minutes or so over the top of his book, it’s more than crossed his mind as well that some fun is in the cards. The only question is ‘when’. Well, strictly speaking, ‘where’ and ‘how’ factor into the equation as well, although in practice we’ve always found that the ‘where’ and the ‘how’ kind of... flow... once the ‘when’ is sorted out. The one conjunction we rarely use is ‘if’, not in this context anyway.
It's always a fun game to play, the watching and waiting game. It's a game that always says "downtime" to me: a lot of the rest of the time, there's another mission in the offing, and uncertainty leaves little room for games. Other times, there's a mission in the recent past, and gratitude for survival, his and mine, lends a certain urgency to the proceedings. But occasionally, during our downtime, and when we're both in the mood for it, a little bit of teasing results in some spectacularly good times.
I'm so busy musing about this, anticipating the fun to come while pretending to read the Sunday papers, occasionally sneaking a look to see what Jack is doing, that I jump when he actually speaks.
“Daniel, how ‘bout some coffee?” He smiles half apologetically, not wanting to make it an order, not during downtime.
“Sure.”
I give him a sharp look as my stomach lurches with anticipation. Is this it? Has he cracked first? Not sure. The look in his eyes is warm, with a hint of speculation. Is there a touch of hunger there? Maybe just a touch. I hold his gaze, and the hunger notches up a little. Okay, let's up the stakes a little, let's smoulder just a little bit. Wow, that worked. As I get up, he continues.
“Thanks. You know, that new coffee gizmo of yours scares the shit out of me, I just can’t get to grips with it at all. It makes far too much noise for my liking. Like the coffee though.” He's still managing to keep his voice level. Okay, not tired of the game yet, then. That's fine by me, I can wait a little longer...
“It’s an espresso machine, Jack. The noise is most of the point. No noise, no froth. No froth, no espresso, q.e.d. And don't think I'm too dense to detect a little bit of the 'chain of command' thing here, Colonel. I happen to know that you don't scare that easily.”
"Works, though, doesn't it?" he asks smugly. "I mean, I'm still lying here and you're headed for the kitchen."
Aah, yes, maybe - doesn't alter the fact that you've got me where I want you. I was itching for an excuse to get up from my couch, just so as I can do... this. I stretch luxuriously, feeling every part of me pop, making sure that my tee rides up and that my washed out old sweats slide just that little bit further down my hips. I'll need a new pair of these soon, and it's going to take some time to find some that fit exactly the same. These are loose enough to sit really low down on the hips, leaving just enough to the imagination. A shiver of excitement runs through me. I think ‘when’ just might be ‘now’.
I make no effort to pull my sweats up when I've finished stretching, I just turn and pad off towards the kitchen. Jack takes a breath with a very satisfactory hitch in it. Mmm, very promising. Very promising indeed.
I futz around with the espresso machine, taking my time. His will power is obviously at its zenith today, as the expected assault still doesn't come. Maybe I'm going to have to put the moves on him, after all...
For the second time in the space of less than a quarter of an hour my heart hammers its way up towards my throat and I jump when two strong arms close around my waist and a pair of soft lips nuzzle into my neck. Damn! I never heard him coming, yet again.
"Jee-zus, Jack, you are going to be the death of me one of these days, if you keep sneaking up behind me like that." I’ve no intention of caving in too quickly.
His voice is low and throaty, little more than a growl against my skin, as his hands flatten against my belly, one heading north, the other south.
“Yeah, but what a way to go.” He’s suckling on my pulse point, where the neck meets the shoulder. The very point that always makes my legs go floppy and my dick go hard. Emphasising his point by nudging my ass with his more than satisfactorily solid cock. One hand is rubbing my belly, moving in slow, sensuous circles, filling me with heat, moving tantalisingly close to my groin, but not touching, not yet, not quite. A thumb ghosts over my nipples and back again.
Not for the first time, I silently bless my genes for providing me with reasonably long arms, as I reach round behind us both to pull his ass in closer to me, increasing the friction on his groin as I push back towards him.
“Not necessarily the best way,” I say, grinding my hips a little. His mouth pauses in its slow trail up the side of my neck and he blows gently over my damp skin.
“Ya think? And the best way would be...?” He resumes his interrupted progress, his hands never missing a beat.
“I think I might prefer going of a heart attack when I’m buried balls-deep in you, rather than dying of fright before things get interesting 'cause you’ve managed to sneak up on me once too often.”
He grins against my neck. “Good point.” He pauses a moment to consider, making me arch my neck as an invitation to continue. “Simultaneous heart attacks then. I insist that they have to be simultaneous. Think how interesting the epitaphs would be.”
“‘He’s totally fucked now’?”
“‘Fuck me, I’m dead! How did that happen?’?”
“‘Died with a smile on his face’?”
He loosens his grip round my waist and allows me to wriggle round in his arms.
We both giggle – sometimes the game gets a little silly. We laugh a lot, Jack and I, that’s what makes the whole deal so good. But the laughter is quickly overtaken by passion as we look into each other’s eyes.
My hand steals up to pull his head towards mine and we kiss, long, slow and deep, tongues swirling over, round, under. Great kisser, my Jack, killer mouth – amazingly soft and mobile lips, tender and demanding by turns. My hands slide down to his ass, almost of their own volition – beautiful ass, lean and taut, the last word in fuckability – is that a word? If it isn’t, it ought to be, and the dictionary definition should include the words “Jack” and “O’Neill”.
The warmth in my belly is growing, coiling and spreading, taking me over. God, Jack, I love this, I love you. Sometimes it’s almost more than I can stand, it’s so... consuming. I feel like I’m less than nothing in the face of your passion – a moth to a flame, a leaf in the current, every damn cliché you could think of, multiplied, squared, and take away the number you first thought of. The only thing that makes this bearable is the fact that I know you feel the same. About me.
And the ‘how’ suddenly comes to me. See? Just what I said. Flow. I manoeuvre us round so that he’s leaning against the counter and start to trail my way down his body, licking, nipping, sucking as I go, taking my time so as not to miss anything. His hands have found my ass now and they clench as he groans my name – permission granted, you do what you have to do Danny boy, just make sure I’m along for the ride. Add ‘O’Neill’ to the 20-some languages I speak.
I push his sweats down as I head further down myself, sinking to my knees as I go. Special attention for his navel, tongue dipping in and swirling round – that earns another groan as his hands tighten around the back of my neck and my dick twitches in sympathy. I’m muttering now, mumbling against his skin, “Oh, Jack, myJack, loveyousomuch, lovethissomuch, youtastesogood, youfeelsogood, you’resohot, goingtofuckyousogoodwhenI’mdonehere...” I can hear him too, moaning and urging me on, even though I can’t make out most of the words. I hear ‘yes’ a few times though. Enough to be encouraging, anyway.
Not that I need the encouragement. As the sweats go down, I go down right behind them. Down one hip, licking and kissing, down the inside of one thigh, gently nibbling the soft pale skin there, up the inside of the other one – target within sight. And what a target – I feel a great surge of heat inside me as I get closer... closer... delaying the moment when I take him in, as much for my benefit as for his...
He actually yelps when I swipe my tongue across his balls and trail it up the underside of his dick, and makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat when I reach the top and take his length into my mouth in one go, pulling back as slowly and smoothly as I can but never quite letting go, before taking him in again in another quick swallow. God, I love doing this for him, I love the feel of him in my mouth, I love the look on his face when I glance up and find him staring down at me, dark eyes glittering with want, mesmerised by the sight of his dick sliding in and out of my mouth. I love the scent of him, soap and musk, and the taste of him, salty and slightly bitter. I love what doing this for him does to my body, the heat building, the pleasure building, anticipation of burying my cock inside him making me as hard as nails and sending shivers of arousal skittering through me.
“Danny... fingers. Get me ready...”
I don’t need asking twice, but I do need lube. Olive oil drizzler on the counter – organic, of course, that should do fine. Thanks again to reasonably long arms, I can reach it easily without stopping. I snag it and drizzle a little on the small of his back, making him jump a little as the cold oil hits and runs towards the cleft of his ass. Then he gets it and moves his hips forward a little, spreading his legs slightly and bracing his arms against the counter to take his weight, allowing me in.
One finger, two, as he tries hard to relax his initial resistance. Oh yeah, lover, open up to me, I want to be in there so bad, to feel the silkiness of you, the heat of you, to have all of you...three fingers and I guess you’re as ready as you’re going to be...
We both moan as I reluctantly withdraw my fingers and allow his dick to slide out of my mouth for the last time, partly from a pang of loss and partly from anticipation. I shuck my sweats in record time, drizzle more oil onto my hand, and oil myself up well – I refuse to hurt him more than I have to, prefer to be over-cautious - and work some more round his now loosened opening as well just for good measure.
“Ready?”
“More than ready. Fuck me now, Danny.”
He turns and kneels in front of me, knees apart so I can slide between his legs – so beautiful. Beautiful, sexy, willing and mine. He hisses as I spread his cheeks and nudge his opening with my cock, and as I watch him deliberately relax and ready himself, my chest tightens with love for him. I push slowly, as smoothly as I know how, giving him time to adjust to the fullness, my legs trembling from the effort of holding back, not thrusting hard, shivering with want as I sink slowly into his tight heat. He hisses again as I breach him and the initial discomfort hits, but I soon feel the moment when pain segues into pleasure, and I sink back down onto my heels, gently pulling his hips back so that he comes with me, reaching round to help get his erection up to speed again.
His hand drops to cover mine where I’m holding him, and together we gasp a litany of love and lust as we pump his length in time to my slow thrusts.
“God, Dannymylove, Ilovethis, loveyou...JesusChristthatfeelssogood...”
“Ohlover, myheartmywhole, ohGodsotight, sorightsobeautiful...”
“Fasternow, pleasefasternow, morec’monfasterohGodyesssfuckmeharder...”
“Yessohyessohyesss, getonyourknees, ohyessthat’ssogood...”
He’s close now, very
close, and so am I. The growling moan that he makes as he comes, the feel of him
shooting into my hand, hot and sticky and slick, sends the sparks rocketing from
my groin to my brain and I cartwheel over the edge, shaking and shuddering,
pleasure so intense it’s almost unbearable pain, chest heaving as I collapse
over his back and we slump to the floor in a sticky, sweaty, tangled, trembling
heap.
“Danny?”
“Mmmmm?”
“Floor’s cold.”
“Yeah.”
“C’mon, let’s get to bed. We can snuggle there. Besides, I need a nap.”
“Me too.”
I need a little rest to recharge the batteries for when...
FINIS