Kylie Lee | Slash fan fiction

Jack held the car keys tantalizingly out of reach. "Teal'c, is this a good idea?" he asked rhetorically.

Daniel, wiping water out of his eyes, felt mud squish around his toes as he settled to the bottom of the lake, just off the dock. He watched as Teal'c folded his arms. Teal'c wore a ratty sleeveless T-shirt, baggy shorts that came to his knees, and Tevas. He also wore a hat to cover Apophis's symbol on his forehead. Despite his casual attire, he still looked large—large and formidable.

"I am perfectly capable of navigating to the barbecue restaurant, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "It was I who suggested barbecue for dinner, as you recall."

"Oh, I do recall," Jack said. The barbecue restaurant had excellent food, or so Daniel had heard, but it was a ninety-minute drive away—longer, if you got stuck behind a truck on the two-lane roads, which was all too likely. Jack hadn't wanted to take time out of his busy schedule of lying around, swimming, and fishing to make the trip, so Teal'c had decided to make the drive and bring barbecue back as takeout.

Daniel put his hands on the dock and hauled himself out of the water. Dripping, he squished over to join Jack and Teal'c on the lawn by Jack's truck. "Let him go, Jack," he said.

"The roads are confusing," Jack argued. What he really meant was, "My truck!"

"I have piloted death gliders," Teal'c pointed out. "I have calculated four-dimensional courses in hyperspace."

"So you see, you have no experience navigating unlabeled Minnesota north-country roads," Jack said. "Four-dimensional courses! That means nothing!"

"Jack, Teal'c has a cell phone," Daniel said reasonably. "And so do you. He can call if he gets lost. Or he can call the restaurant and get directions."

Teal'c said, "I have consulted a two-dimensional representation of the roads and am confident I can navigate successfully."

"He means he looked at a map," Daniel translated.

"Yeah, Daniel, I got it." Jack rounded on Teal'c. "You're not trying to get out of fishing, are you?"

"Indeed not," Teal'c said.

Daniel suppressed a smile. Teal'c had agreed to come to Minnesota with Jack for a week-long fishing vacation, but it was clear, at least to Daniel, that Teal'c did not particularly enjoy fishing. He spent far more time meditating and eating. Daniel had caught Teal'c fishing without bait earlier that morning.

"If anything—anything at all—happens to my truck—"

Teal'c leaned forward and plucked the keys out of Jack's hand. He smiled. "I'll be back," he said.

"You'd better be!" Jack yelled as Teal'c climbed into Jack's truck and slammed the door. He turned to Daniel. He had to raise his voice above the sound of tires on gravel. "What was that about? 'I'll be back'? Has he been watching the Terminator movies or something?"

"It'll be nice to have the barbecue without having to make the trip," Daniel pointed out. He was getting cold, so he grabbed a blanket off the back of one of the Adirondack chairs, where Jack had draped it to air, and wrapped it around himself. "Are you going to swim some more?" he asked when Jack headed for the dock.

"Nah, I just want to check the fish in the live box."

Daniel didn't feel like moving a heavy Adirondack chair around so he could see the dock, so he sat down on the ground right next to the cabin and leaned against the wall. He watched as Jack, in his bright red, baggy swimming trunks, hopped into the water—like Daniel, Jack got into and out of the water from the dock, rather than just walking into the lake, because there was no sand and the shore was all clay and mud—and lifted the cover of the live box. It was simply a wooden box attached to the dock made of widely spaced slats, to let the water in. Jack stuck freshly caught fish in it. He was saving up enough for a fish dinner for all of them, but apparently they weren't there yet.

"How do they look?" Daniel called.

"Alive," Jack said. "Thus the term 'live box.' But that bass I caught on Tuesday swallowed the hook, so it might die before we can eat it."

Jack had gotten up before five in the morning the last three days to stalk the elusive largemouth bass. Daniel was happier to fish for crappie: his line didn't get caught on the stuff along the shoreline, he didn't have to cast, and he could catch crappie during the day, when the mosquitoes weren't so bad. He'd joined Jack for a 5 a.m. fishing trip only once; he'd spent the whole time feeling stunned from exhaustion and slapping at insects, so despite the beauty of the lake, he'd declined all subsequent early morning trips. He preferred to sleep in.

Daniel watched Jack wade to the shore and begin pulling at the reeds, trying to create a beach. He was incredibly competent, which didn't surprise Daniel at all. When they'd first arrived, Jack had turned on all the taps and let the water run until it was clear. He'd visited the laundromat to wash the bedding. He'd gone shopping for food. He'd taken a canoe and a fishing boat out of storage. He'd broken out the rods and tackle. And the list went on. It was Daniel's first time at Jack's lake cabin, but not Teal'c's. Teal'c was an old hand by now. Samantha Carter had been invited, but she never came. She preferred to spend her vacation time at the SGC, working on her pet projects.

Now, Daniel relaxed in the late afternoon sunlight as he dried, watching Jack. The beauty of the north woods was incredible, all trees and lakes and wildlife and sky, but Daniel preferred to focus on Jack. He'd always liked Jack, but since he'd descended, he'd found it first hard, and then impossible, to tell himself that Jack was merely a friend and colleague to him. Agreeing to come on vacation to Jack's cabin had, in retrospect, been stupid: it was an incredibly romantic setting, and although he saw plenty of Jack—and a relaxed, happy Jack to boot—Daniel realized that mostly, he was just torturing himself. But he wasn't ready to say anything, not yet, because that could end everything, and even the torture was better than no Jack at all.

"This is impossible," Jack muttered, his voice carrying clearly over the water. He waded out a little deeper and waved his legs, cleaning them off, and then took a giant step up onto the dock. "Some people truck in sand to make beaches, you know," he said, wiping at his knees. Daniel took in the curve of Jack's ass, the tanned skin, the muscular arms, and the jaunty trunks plastered against his groin, trying to look like he wasn't looking. Jack joined Daniel and sat down a little in front of him. "Should I truck in sand?"

"Nah," Daniel said. "If you want sand, you should go someplace with sand."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Jack pulled idly at the grass, ripping it out and tossing it aside.

Daniel said, "I was standing in the water today, and I felt the minnows nibbling at me."

Jack looked over his shoulder at Daniel and grinned. "Yeah, they do that," he said. "Charlie used to love it. Sara said the fish were kissing him." Sara was Jack's ex-wife.

"We can all do with some kissing, I guess," Daniel said lightly. He hadn't meant to bring up bad memories—Charlie's death, Jack's breakup with Sara.

Jack laughed. "I guess that's true," he agreed. "I certainly haven't been doing much kissing lately." He picked a blade of grass, stuck it between his teeth, and started to chew.

"Me neither," Daniel said. "But I always thought I could do better than minnows."

"If you want the minnows' affection, you can feed them," Jack said. "They like bread. They kind of swarm up and pick at it. Teal'c likes to do that. Maybe he'll let you help him feed the fish."

"Sounds fun," Daniel said. "Teal'c seems to like it here—the quiet."

"Yeah," Jack said. "He doesn't talk much, though. Maybe you noticed. I guess it's in keeping with the quiet motif. So I'm glad you came along."

Daniel adjusted the blanket. Water still beaded his skin, and the blanket was getting sodden under his ass. "Because I talk?"

"Well, that too, but I'm just glad you're back."

Daniel's heart leaped, but Jack hadn't looked at him. "Yeah. Me too."

Jack clasped his hands around his knees and fell silent, staring over the water, absently chewing on his stalk of grass. He was within reach. If he wanted to, Daniel could extend a hand and touch him. He could brush his hands along Jack's shoulder blade, feeling the curve of it under his hand, the texture and elasticity of Jack's skin. He could lean forward and press his lips against Jack's neck. Jack was close, so very close. All Daniel had to do was gather up his courage and reach out—

The call of a loon sounded across the water. Daniel pulled his hand back and adjusted the blanket around his knees, his groin hot and heavy.

"There they are," Jack said, pointing. "Can you see them?"

"I'm not wearing my glasses," Daniel said. He'd left them inside when he came out to go swimming.

"Oh, right. Well, they're out there, a mother, a father, and a few kids. The kids are getting pretty big now." Jack put his arms around himself and shivered.

"Are you cold?" Daniel asked immediately. "Do you want some blanket?"

"Thanks," Jack said, dropping his piece of grass, and instead of settling next to Daniel, as Daniel had expected, he scooted himself backward. Daniel had to open his legs to let Jack in.

Before Daniel could say or do anything, Jack leaned against Daniel's chest. Daniel put his arms around Jack automatically, enveloping them both in the blanket, and a second later, he realized what he'd just done and panicked. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. He may never get this chance again, to hold Jack O'Neill in his arms. He was terrified that if he said anything, anything at all, even "Is this okay?", Jack would come to his senses and pull away. So Daniel sat, wrapped in the blanket, Jack between his legs and leaning against his chest, Daniel's arms around him. Daniel knew that Jack could probably feel his erection pressing against Jack's back. But Jack didn't say anything, and he didn't pull away. They simply sat there, quietly, with the sun behind them, casting brilliant light over the water. It was nice—calm, relaxing.

In his arms, Jack moved occasionally, just shifting slightly. Daniel didn't realize how highly strung he was—how highly strung they both were—until Jack leaned his head back into the crook of Daniel's neck, exhaled long and slow, and relaxed. The release of tension bled into Daniel, and he unwound in turn. Occasionally, a fish would splash. Birds twittered, and the wind sighed through the trees, making the aspens rustle loudly. Jack was in his arms, and even though Daniel hadn't told Jack how he'd felt, Jack could probably figure it out from Daniel's hard-on. Even if Jack didn't or couldn't reciprocate, he wasn't pulling away, either. The tranquility of the setting, the weight of Jack against him, the trust their posture implied—it soothed him. They'd have to move sooner or later, because Teal'c would be back with dinner in a few hours, but Daniel understood the preciousness of this time together. It might be all he got, and if it was, he knew Jack. Jack would never mention it.

Time passed. Daniel's erection waned, and his eyes grew heavy. He was on the verge of a light doze when he felt Jack's hand on his arm. The blanket fell open slightly as Jack ran his hand down Daniel's arm, and suddenly, Daniel was wide awake. Jack took Daniel's hand and placed it on his penis. Under the hot warmth of Jack's still-wet swimming trunks, Daniel felt the even hotter swelling of Jack's erection, and Daniel felt his own cock surge back to life. Jack pressed his hand against Daniel's, and Daniel instinctively closed his hand around the bulge. Its hardness filled his hand, and when Daniel reached lower, he felt the softness of Jack's balls. He cupped them, enjoying their size and weight, until Jack took Daniel's hand again, maneuvered his swimming trunks, and slid their hands underneath the trunks' waistband. Daniel felt the velvety soft skin of Jack's penis slide over the hard rod underneath as he began to stroke. It could have been a dream, but the sensations were too immediate, too varied and exact to be mere imagination. It felt glorious, to have Jack in his arms like this, telling him without words what he wanted, just as Daniel's erection had told Jack without words what Daniel wanted. Or had Jack started it all when he tucked himself between Daniel's legs? It didn't matter. All that mattered was the two of them together, here and now. Jack guided Daniel's hand along his bare cock for a few strokes, then let go so he could lift his ass and tug his swimming trunks down. Daniel was barely aware of Jack kicking them off, because the feel of Jack under his hands, against his chest, made him dizzy.

Daniel hitched his butt a little farther away from the wall and pulled Jack against his body. Jack had started to breathe hard, and Daniel had trouble catching his own breath, because he'd just been dreaming about touching Jack, and now he was, with sensation crowding logic out of his mind. Jack wanted Daniel to touch him, and the implication there—that Daniel's feelings weren't one-sided—staggered him. As he stroked Jack's cock, Daniel thrust gently, little sparks of pleasure traveling along his length as he pressed against Jack's back. He was hyperaware of Jack's body through his swimming trunks. He might as well have been nude; the swimming trunks didn't cut off but somehow amplified sensation as the wet fabric dragged against his sensitized dick. He rubbed Jack rhythmically, with long, smooth strokes, learning his length and girth; ran his fingernails around the soft, spongy head of Jack's penis; cupped and handled his hairy balls; and slid a finger along the hot channel between Jack's testicles and asshole, making Jack open his legs. All the while, he felt Jack wind up. His free arm kept Jack close, so he was aware of Jack's labored breathing. He stroked Jack's body hard, feeling Jack's skin against his, and however much he'd thought he'd wanted Jack, now he knew he couldn't live without knowing Jack as intimately as this. He returned his hand to Jack's cock and began fondling it again. Their position—Jack's back pressed against Daniel's chest, Jack between Daniel's legs—meant that the movements Daniel made were like masturbating. He focused on the head of Jack's cock, on the area under his palm, rotating his hand, but it was hard to focus, because the urgency in his own cock was almost impossible to ignore.

Then Jack said, "Oh," leaned back hard against Daniel, hips moving, and gasped, his hands grabbing Daniel's legs. Daniel felt it in his stomach: Jack was going to come, right now. The mere thought of Jack coming—Jack coming while in his arms, Daniel jacking him off—made Daniel whimper. He felt Jack's cock leap in his hand, and a second later, wet heat poured across his knuckles. He continued to stroke, feeling the head of Jack's cock squeezing out more come as Jack made incoherent noises of pleasure. Daniel's hips began to move, and he drove his distended penis against Jack's back and hip, pushing hard, trying to get enough stimulation to take him over the edge. Daniel didn't want to hold Jack gently in his arms any more. He didn't want sweet. He wanted to push Jack down and lie on top of him, to fuck him, to drive himself into him, to have him, to make Jack utterly his as he came and came.

Jack pried Daniel's hand off his cock, and a second later, Daniel felt two of his fingers slide into Jack's mouth. Jack's mouth sucked hard and his tongue licked, and Daniel pressed his cock against Jack's body as his balls squeezed. His cock jumped as he filled his swimming trunks with come, his orgasm blinding in its intensity and sweetness, every bump of his cock against Jack's back sending shivers of pure pleasure through him.

When he was done coming, he gasped for air and leaned his head against the wall. Jack sucked and licked Daniel's hand, gently now, moving from finger to finger until Daniel's heart had stopped hammering. He sat back up and rearranged himself, so Jack was leaning mostly against one of Daniel's bent legs. Daniel's ass hurt, and he knew he'd have to walk around for a minute to get out the kinks, but he wasn't about to move. He wasn't quite sure what he'd expected when Jack had settled into his arms, but it hadn't been the incendiary swiftness and power of what he'd just experienced.

He pulled his index finger halfway out of Jack's mouth, then slid it back in, sensuously and slowly. He leaned forward and put his lips against Jack's as he withdrew his finger again. Jack's mouth opened, and their tongues wound together as Daniel touched first Jack's tongue and teeth, then his own, with his slick fingers. Jack tasted like come—Jack's own, Daniel realized, and the thought made him push into Jack's mouth harder, until they were kissing with the same desperation Daniel had felt as he'd rocked against Jack while on the cusp of coming. Jack said "Daniel," low, the word coming from deep inside, and Daniel whispered "Jack," because they'd found each other.

Jack took Daniel's wet hand and interlaced their fingers. He pulled back a little, and Daniel reluctantly took the hint. They studied each other for a long few seconds. Jack looked the same as always, his half-smile just the same, a little ironic, his short, graying hair messy. His brown eyes flickered, and Daniel realized that Jack was taking in Daniel's face, just as Daniel was taking in Jack's, because this was the moment when everything became different, even though on the outside, they looked the same. Then Jack smiled, a real smile.

"Think we can get rid of Teal'c?" he asked.

Daniel grinned at Jack. "How?"

"I can make a phone call, get him recalled or something."

"Isn't that…impolite?"

Jack grunted. "I suppose," he said unwillingly. "He does love to fish, you know. I hate to disappoint him."

Daniel prudently didn't have that chat he'd been planning on having with Jack about Jack's little delusion. He began after a pause, "Jack—"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"My legs are going to sleep."

"My butt is asleep. I can't feel my butt at all."

Neither of them moved. Daniel wanted the moment, sore legs and butts notwithstanding, to go on forever.

"We should talk, I guess," Jack said after a while.

Daniel nodded. "I guess."

"Or—could we just do it? This? You and me? And not talk about it?"

"You don't want to talk about it?"

Jack hesitated. "No," he said.

Daniel brushed Jack's face with the backs of his fingers. "Okay. I'll talk about it. I want to do—what we just did. I want to do it again. I want to do it with you, with only you, maybe for the rest of my life, if you're up to it."

"You see, you're saying it," Jack said, sounding so Jacklike and peeved that Daniel had to smile. "It can't just—be?"

"What?"

"Us."

"So there's an us."

"There'd better be an us."

"I think there's an us."

"Good."

"Good." Jack nodded decisively, as though he and Daniel had just come to a major understanding. "It's getting late." He reached for his discarded swimming trunks. "I'm going to jump in one last time and clean off. Are you hungry?"

"I'm very hungry."

"We've got salad stuff."

Daniel shrugged. "I'll wait for the barbecue you and Teal'c talked up," he said.

Daniel felt Jack's body coil, and a second later, Jack stood up. He unselfconsciously held up his swimming trunks, shook them, turned them right side out, and stepped into them. Daniel took in Jack's nude body. It was somehow much, much different than seeing him in the locker room on base. Jack was at half-mast, and he had come on his stomach. Daniel resisted the urge to pull Jack down beside him. He knew he'd be sneaking into Jack's room tonight—the first night of many. Maybe he could taste Jack's come firsthand.

"Jack?" Daniel called as Jack headed toward the dock.

Jack turned and walked backward. He squinted and shaded his eyes against the sun. "Daniel?"

"You know how I feel, right?"

"Yes, Daniel," Jack said, not stopping his slow backward walk. "I love you too."