Halrloprillalar (prillalar) wrote,

Stargate Fic: The Aftereffects of Sustained Sarcophagus Usage (J/D)

My Jack/Daniel ficathon story, written for (...the suspense!) tripoli. I'm not sure I hit square on any of your requests, but I did manage to avoid all your restrictions. *g* Also, you'll be glad to know I cut the line where Jack thinks Daniel's eyes are the exact same blue as the hog line on the curling rink in his hometown in Minnesota where his rink, the Vipers, won the high school bonspiel three years in a row.

Title: The Aftereffects of Sustained Sarcophagus Usage
Jack/Daniel, PG13, 1700 words
Summary: Missing scene from "Need" (S2). Daniel wants. Daniel gets.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.

Thanks to kestrelsan, as always, for beta.

Oh, and kids? If this is actually some huge fandom cliché, you'll let me know, right?

The Aftereffects of Sustained Sarcophagus Usage

Jack was tired. He was tired and sore and the dirt was so ground
into his skin that twenty minutes in a hot shower had only washed
the crust of it away. He was in the infirmary being poked and
prodded and told that he was tired and sore and he should take it
easy for a while.

He wasn't looking at Daniel, who was sitting on a table across from
him, grinning, kicking his heels, and not looking tired and sore
and dirty at all.

Frasier slapped her cold stethoscope on Jack's chest. "Cough."

"Black Lung?" Jack said. "I've heard that you can get that when
you're forced to work in a mine." Since he wasn't looking
at Daniel, he couldn't tell if that fatuous grin had wavered at
all. Probably not, though, the bastard.

"You'll be fine," Fraiser said. "You're exhausted and bruised, but
there's no permanent damage. You know," she continued, as he did up
his shirt. "That was a pretty traumatic experience. I'd recommend
some counselling for you."

"No thanks." Jeez, if he had to have counselling every time he was
enslaved -- well, hopefully he wouldn't be enslaved again. At least
not more than once or twice, anyhow. Damn Stargate.

"Well, you at least need some time off work. Take a week. That" --
Frasier held up her hand to stop Jack from speaking -- "is
mandatory. Starting now."

"Fine by me," Jack said. "I'll just go home, where I won't be
shackled or beaten or starved. Maybe I'll rent a movie." And off he
went, still not looking at Daniel even though Daniel was clearly
looking at him.

At home, Jack ordered a very large pizza with everything he could
think of on it and took another shower while he waited for it to
arrive. Then he sat on the couch, eating, drinking beer, watching a
hockey game he'd taped while they were off-world. Who needed
counselling when there were professional sports?

When the doorbell rang, he ignored it. When it rang again, he swore
and pulled himself to his feet, then wished he hadn't when his
muscles screamed at him. "Shut up," he muttered and went to the

It was Daniel. "Jack!" he said, flashing that same stupid smile,
and was inside before Jack thought to block the way.

"What do you want?" Jack said and tried to communicate that Daniel
should just turn around and leave because Jack really didn't want
to see him right now, what with that whole slavery thing and all.

"I was worried about you," Daniel said, either completely oblivious
to Jack's hostile body language or deliberately ignoring it. "So I
decided to stop by." He draped his jacket over a chair.

"I'm fine," Jack said. "Thank you for asking, your highness."
He considered hitting Daniel over the head with a vase but
just crossed his arms over his chest instead. It hurt but he
manfully didn't wince.

"Oh, about that," Daniel said. "It was just the best way to get the
job done. You get an opportunity, you take it. You get some power,
you use it. I had everything under control."

"Sure," Jack said and picked up Daniel's jacket to hand to him. But
Daniel was out of the hall and into the living room and Jack felt
stupid just standing there with it. He dropped it and followed

"Did it bother you?" Daniel wheeled around to face Jack.

"Oh, not that much," Jack said. "Always happy to be
enslaved as long as there's a good reason."

"Let me make it up to you, Jack." Daniel wasn't smirking for a
change, but the serious look on his face seemed a lot more
worrisome, given his fucked-up mental state. Why had they even let
Daniel out of the SGC? It occurred to Jack that maybe they hadn't
actually let him go and that Jack should call in and check.

"You can send me a muffin basket." Jack couldn't make the call from
here, but there was another phone in the bedroom. "Grab a beer, sit
down, I'll be right back."

But Daniel stepped up to Jack, right there in Jack's very own
personal space, and put his hand right on Jack's very own personal
neck. Daniel's hand felt a lot warmer than Jack thought it ought
to. Without his glasses, Daniel's eyes were a lot more intense than
Jack was used to too, though probably part of that was sarcophagus

"It's fine," Jack said and stepped back, but Daniel moved with him
and somehow took two steps for Jack's one so that he was close
enough that Jack could smell the coffee on Daniel's breath. Like
Daniel needed yet another stimulant.

"Come on, Jack," Daniel said and his voice was just as intense as his
eyes. "Why shouldn't we take what we want?" And then Daniel kissed

It took a moment for Jack to actually believe what was happening.
But it was true -- Daniel's mouth was pressed to Jack's and his
eyes were closed and his arm snaked around Jack's waist and hugged

Jack stepped back again, this time more forcefully. He had to stay
calm here, and keep Daniel calm too, until he could make the call
and get them to take Daniel back to the SGC. But that didn't mean
he had to let Daniel kiss him.

"Daniel--" he said and searched for something that would come
across as "stay the hell away from me" but in a calming and
non-threatening way. But while he was thinking about it, Daniel
grabbed him and pushed him down on the couch.

On pretty much any other day, Jack would have been more than a
match for Daniel. After all, he was a top-notch soldier, trained in
hand-to-hand combat, with the wiry strength of a man half his age
and the quick reflexes of a cat. But Jack was coming off a couple
weeks of forced labour and starvation, not to mention two beers,
while Daniel was fresh with feasting and caffeine and Goa'uld
super-powers. So Jack didn't feel his masculinity was particularly
threatened by being overpowered by Daniel.

Being groped by him was an entirely different matter.

Jack was flat on his back on the couch and Daniel was stretched out
on top of him. The remote control was digging into Jack's right
buttcheek and Daniel was squeezing the left one. Daniel's body was
heavy and hot and his mouth was over Jack's again, his tongue
pushing at Jack's lips.

"Mmmfurmph", said Jack, which meant "Get the hell off me." Oh fuck,
said Jack's brain, which meant "oh fuck". Aaaaargh, said Jack's
muscles, which meant "goddamn, this hurts". Woo hoo! said Jack's
libido and made Jack wrap his arms around Daniel and kiss him back.

Nobody was more surprised by that than Jack. No matter how he tried
to rationalize it, which he spent a lot of time doing later,
excuses like his weakened condition and Daniel's altered state of
mind couldn't explain away the fact that not only was Jack being
ravished by Daniel Jackson, he was, like a heroine in a
bodice-ripper, enjoying it.

Ten minutes later, Jack was still kissing Daniel, was still being
groped, was still enjoying it. Daniel's hair was falling all over
Jack's face. Jack pawed at Daniel's back, pulled at his shirt, got
his hands underneath onto the hot skin. The hockey game was still
on and Jack could hear the horn blow as someone scored.

Things became a little hazy after that. Eventually a shrill sound
penetrated the haze and Jack realised the phone was ringing. His
brain seized the chance and let him know he really ought to go
answer it. In the other room, preferably.

Jack pulled away as best he could. "Phone," he said and tried to
slide out from under Daniel.

"Leave it," Daniel said and sucked at that indented spot on Jack's
neck that probably had some fancy name which Jack didn't know.

Jack was tempted to leave it, after that. But pleasurable as this
was, he had to get Daniel some help; anyway, this was far too much
like seducing someone who was drunk. "There could be something
wrong," Jack said. "Maybe it's Carter or Teal'c."

Daniel gave Jack another one of those intense looks but he
manoeuvred himself off and sat up, looking thoroughly rumpled and

Oh god, Jack thought, and went into the bedroom to answer the

It was, unsurprisingly and thankfully, the SGC, looking for Daniel,
who had slipped out when someone's back was turned. Jack assured
them that everything was fine, but that they should probably come
pick Daniel up ASAP.

Jack caught sight of himself in the mirror: he was just as rumpled
as Daniel. His shirt was half undone and his face was red from
scraping against Daniel's stubble. Jack scowled at himself and
buttoned his shirt back up before he went back out.

Then, hating himself, he took a deep breath, sat down on the couch,
and made out with Daniel until the doorbell rang.

Daniel yelled at Jack as they took him. Jack looked away. He didn't
want to see Daniel's face.

When they were gone, Jack went to bed and stared at the ceiling
until he finally fell asleep. He didn't know who had won the hockey

The next day, Jack went into the SGC, orders or no orders, and
nobody told him to go back home. Daniel was in massive withdrawal
and he got a lot worse before he got better. Jack was the one who
chased him down, talked him down, held him as he broke down.

After it was all over, Daniel said he didn't remember anything
about what he'd done, which was fine with Jack. But sometimes when
Jack wasn't looking at Daniel, he saw that Daniel wasn't looking at
him either.

Life went on.

Tags: fic, jack/daniel, stargate sg-1
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