Three Wedding Dances
Oct. 9th, 2011 08:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brainofckOh, dear Lord.
For this year's![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
jd_ficathon, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lupin_stargazer requested:
For your pre-reading education, I suggest this basically SFW gallery of pole dancing moves.
Title: Three Wedding Dances
Author:muck_a_luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: R
Summary: Pole dancing, sheer scarves, and alien wedding rituals.
Content/warnings: None.
Words: 2405
Disclaimer: If anybody is planning a script like this for SG-1, I'm certainly not going to claim any rights to it. However, I'd be delighted to work in a co-writing/consulting/first-reader/advisory-type capacity, with my fee to be negotiated at that time. :D
Beta:zats_clear
"It's a rowdy crowd out there," the stagehand warned him.
"It's always a rowdy crowd in this place," Jack opined. He loved getting bookings here. The parties were large and the audience always tipped like the horny drunks they were – that is, like they thought the dirty, damp fives, the crumpled twenties, or the crisp fifties would win them something more than the chance to touch hot, bare skin, silk banana warmer, or heavy leather boot.
"Seriously, if the maid of honor is booking a stripper, you gotta think the bride's friends like to party."
The guy chuckled.
"Or in your case, the mother of the bride," he commented, grinning at Jack's mock glare.
"Nice way to support a sensitive artist," Jack complained. The guy flipped him off and Jack stepped out to face the room.
He stood in the middle of the stage, arms crossed forbiddingly, feet set in a wide stance. He leveled a glare around the room, holding eye contact with several of the women in turn. There were wolf whistles and cat calls and outright shrieks as they took him in. He wore his black turnout gear, jacket open and loose showing the suspenders and his Las Vegas Fire and Rescue tee shirt underneath.
He didn't let his eyes linger on the huge buffet of cakes and booze he could see in the back of the room. God, he would kill for a slice of that penis cake. It was a huge pain in the ass, keeping the body fat percentage that would let him show off his six-pack abs and the muscle definition in his chest and arms.
He shrugged off his coat, flicking it away toward the back of the stage.
"Ladies," he addressed his audience. His natural voice boomed over the raucous noise of the crowd. He prided himself on never needing a mic. "If I could have your attention?"
They quieted down.
"I just want to be clear about one thing," he continued, as he deliberately undid his suspenders and stepped out of his turnout pants, turning to toss them away as well. He turned his attention back to the rapt women.
"I am not a stripper," he declared, resuming his crossed-arms stance, staring down the room again. You could have heard a pin drop.
"I'm just a fire fighter who really… really… loves his pole," he deadpanned. Then he cracked a huge grin and winked and the room went up in laughter and screaming as he mounted the pole and began his routine.
He spun. He floated, first with two arms, then with one arm. With another grin and wink to the watching party, he did the Fireman. The routine progressed through various Spinners and Chairs. He arched back, gripping only with his knees, and peeled off his shirt before it got too sweaty. He flung it in the direction of the bride, who he had spotted early on, sitting in the best seat in the house, looking very, very drunk. She caught it with a whoop, and he let himself lower all the way until he was inverted on the pole in perfect crescent. The bride somewhat tentatively reached out and stroked his bare, smooth chest, shrieking and snatching her hand back when he flexed his abs and righted himself for more spins around his prop.
He briefly dismounted his pole with his back to the room, standing with his feet well apart. He bent deeply at the waist and reached though, grabbing his waistband and ripping away his trick cotton firehouse uniform trousers. He flung them to the back of the stage to another eruption of appreciative shouts. With the thong on, he was showing them his bare ass now, and he knew exactly how hot he was. He would appear to be standing there naked in his heavy leather boots. They weren't regulation footwear, but erotic dance wasn't strictly about authenticity, after all. He flexed, making the muscles ripple across his back.
He didn't even jump when the bride slapped him hard on the right buttcheek. He just looked over his shoulder and gave her his best devilish grin. One of the bridesmaids was stuffing money in his boot.
He whipped around the pole to show himself off from the front, and the house came down when they saw the LVFR crest emblazoned on his banana warmer. He laughed with them and climbed his pole again, hooking his legs around for a moment and crossing his arms again, staring them down sternly before lifting his whole body with his arms and spinning himself around in an acrobatic move that never failed to win him a few gasps. It also showed off every detail of his musculature, from bulging shoulders and biceps to deeply chiseled abs to thick sleek quads and beautiful calves.
When he changed back stage, he peeled about a thousand bucks in cash from behind the band of his thong and from inside his boots.
Yeah, he loved getting a booking at this place.
He traded the thong for boxer briefs and pulled on his jeans. He was rubbing the towel over his chest again when he caught sight of the next act.
Suddenly his jeans were way too tight in the crotch.
The guy was built, even more heavily muscled than Jack, who could never bulk up quite like that. Jack always had a lean, rangy musculature. This kid was all biceps, broad shoulders, and absolutely impossibly tapered waist and hips. His painted on leather pants highlighted pertly rounded buttocks.
Somewhere an announcer introduced him as Daniel.
Daniel carried two long, thin black sheer scarves, and he was moving from the beginning. No cheesy poses, or dancing girl moves. His dance was more about strength than grace, though his hips moved with a lithe fluidity, and his belly and chest undulated with a sleek precision that drew Jack back out onto the stage. Daniel was moving and twisting like an F5 tornado when Jack stepped deliberately into his path and Daniel crashed into him, chest to chest. The shocked alarm on Daniel's face transitioned to anger then to pure ice-blue lust as denim and leather failed to disguise the raging hard on Jack was pressing into Daniel's waist. Jack leaned in and whispered into Daniel's ear.
"I am going to fuck you so fucking hard."
Daniel leaned away, separating their bare chests, leaving them joined at the groin. Jack wasn't holding Daniel. Daniel could have returned to his dance, left Jack standing there like the asshole he was. The room had gone silent at Jack's strange intrusion into the other dancer's routine. Then Daniel deliberately and fluidly turned his back to Jack, his hip dragging across Jack's package, then his perfect ass pressing against him. The sheer scarves trailed around and over Jack.
"Oh, yeah," Jack murmured, and the women went wild.
Daniel moved and Jack followed. He didn't have all Daniel's skill, but he knew how to move his body. The courtship dance that followed felt like raw sex, and it was definitely not clear at all who was going to be fucking whom when it was done. Daniel's moves were as aggressive and predatory as Jack's intrusion onto the stage had been.
Daniel led them to the edge of the platform, showing that just like Jack, Daniel never quite forgot about his audience. He turned to face the room, every smooth undulation and twist of Daniel's hips rubbing against Jack's now throbbing, but tightly-contained, erection. The women certainly didn't miss it. More than one groping hand made its way between their bodies.
Daniel moved them back again, spinning in Jack's arms, the scarves spiraling around them. Then Daniel broke away and left Jack there at the back of the platform while he finished his dance with a tumbling routine that brought the crowd out of their chairs. Jack crossed his arms and struck a pose of appraisal, flaunting his arousal, not flinching when Daniel reversed his series of flips to land chest-to-chest with him again.
For their exit, Daniel placed both hands on Jack's chest and gracelessly shoved him toward the gap in the curtains. Jack gave their audience a grin and a rakish wink, and let himself be bullied out of sight.
Vala howled delightedly as the bare-chested dancers on the stage fell to their knees, dry-humping the air, grabbing their crotches.
Jack could not believe that Carter, of all people, would let Vala, of all people, organize her party.
"I think someone should have informed Vala that bachelorette parties are for bachelor-ettes, " Jack yelled into Daniel's ear. The music was pounding. He couldn't hear anything but the loudest yells of the crowd over the din.
"Think of it as exploring an alien culture," Daniel yelled back. "Complete with courtship dances and elaborate rituals for the acceptance of major new cultural roles, such as marriage."
The music abruptly cut off, so that Daniel shouted "such as marriage" quite loudly into the suddenly very quiet room.
The archaeologist shrank back into his seat in uncharacteristic embarrassment.
"I see we have a couple of gate crashers in the crowd," the half-naked em-cee noted from the stage. "They sure don't look like bachelor-ettes," he paused dramatically, "…to me." He leered at the bride's table. Carter ate it up, as far as Jack could see. Jack just felt unsettled that apparently he and the stripper thought exactly the same thoughts.
Teal'c's glower could not have been more forbidding, but the guy didn't seem the least bit intimidated. Jack had to give it to these dancers – they were built. Probably spent all their non-stripping time in the gym. It was possible they actually thought they could take Teal'c. Wouldn't that make a fun bachelorette party activity?
"The ever-lovely Vala has suggested that maybe they belong up here with us, instead of down there with you…"
There was much dramatic nodding amongst the dancing troupe. Vala stalked over, grabbing Teal'c with one hand, Daniel with the other, and tugging them to their feet. She took one look at Jack's face and didn't even try to get him involved. He was pleased that in a crunch, he was scarier than Teal'c. No way was he playing along with her antics. Just being in this place was bad enough. He was not getting up on that stage. This was one time he was going to stand on his dignity as the CO.
Teal'c and Daniel allowed themselves to be drawn, with only token protest, onto the stage. The pounding rock music resumed. Daniel had worn a nice shirt and slacks. Teal'c had come dressed in his favorite cowboy garb. Their shirts came off. Teal'c's wide-brimmed hat stayed on. Their leather and fine wool stood out in the sea of matching denim the dancers wore. Otherwise, Jack had to admit that Daniel and Teal'c looked like they belonged up there with the other eye-candy.
A couple of lead dancers took their places toward the front of the stage, with Daniel and Teal'c prominently placed in the middle of the line behind. With expressions of deep concentration, the his two teammates followed the dancers. Not that the moves themselves were particularly complicated. It was all mimed sex and strutting, as far as Jack could tell.
Watching Daniel thrust his hips and flaunt his crotch, Jack suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
He turned away from the spectacle on the stage to survey the room, full of other officers and the wives of other officers. Sam and Vala were on their feet, laughing and flushed and drunk, yelling inarticulately for bump-and-grind moves that Jack was no longer watching.
Definitely a room full of aliens, he decided.
She spun and whirled with powerful grace, the scarves winding around her, hiding and revealing in equal parts. Her dark eyes over her veil never left Daniel, though her dance was supposed to be in honor of the newlyweds, sitting on thrones just to Daniel's left.
Jack sat in a place of honor at the end of the table. Teal'c sat by Daniel. Carter leaned over and murmured something into Teal'c's ear that brought a slight lift of his eyebrow. From Carter's bright smile, Jack figured they were sharing amusement at the beautiful dancer's attention to their archaeologist. Jack wondered suddenly if he ever looked at Daniel like that; if Teal'c and Carter ever shared that moment of amusement over Jack's obvious, smitten absorption.
The music came to a sudden end. The dancer saluted the bride and groom. Jack was still watching his team, when the looks of sudden shock on their faces had his P90 in his hands even before he turned to see.
The dancer had dropped her veil. She could have been Sha'uri's sister – the delicate oval face, the dark, silken curls, the joy in her eyes and her gentle, shy smile as she dropped a deep curtsey to the father of the bride and the leader of this tribe.
Daniel's knuckles were white where he gripped his knees, now staring down at the tassels on his seating cushion and his own crossed ankles.
The dancer's smile wavered as she withdrew from the table. Trays of food were brought out and placed where her dancing bare feet had been moments before.
Then the father of the bride began the toasts and Jack's obligations as the leader of the Tau'ri meant that he had to tear his eyes away and couldn't keep staring as Daniel's heart broke all over again.
If you're interested, all my stories, in order, from one page. Also, my fiction recommendations.
For this year's
jd_ficathon, lupin_stargazer requested:- Two (2) Requirements:
1. Pole dancing
2. Sheer scarves
Optional Request: alien ritual/custom
Restriction #1: no non/dub-con
Restriction #2: no wussy!Daniel
For your pre-reading education, I suggest this basically SFW gallery of pole dancing moves.
Title: Three Wedding Dances
Author:
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofckPairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: R
Summary: Pole dancing, sheer scarves, and alien wedding rituals.
Content/warnings: None.
Words: 2405
Disclaimer: If anybody is planning a script like this for SG-1, I'm certainly not going to claim any rights to it. However, I'd be delighted to work in a co-writing/consulting/first-reader/advisory-type capacity, with my fee to be negotiated at that time. :D
Beta:
zats_clear"It's a rowdy crowd out there," the stagehand warned him.
"It's always a rowdy crowd in this place," Jack opined. He loved getting bookings here. The parties were large and the audience always tipped like the horny drunks they were – that is, like they thought the dirty, damp fives, the crumpled twenties, or the crisp fifties would win them something more than the chance to touch hot, bare skin, silk banana warmer, or heavy leather boot.
"Seriously, if the maid of honor is booking a stripper, you gotta think the bride's friends like to party."
The guy chuckled.
"Or in your case, the mother of the bride," he commented, grinning at Jack's mock glare.
"Nice way to support a sensitive artist," Jack complained. The guy flipped him off and Jack stepped out to face the room.
He stood in the middle of the stage, arms crossed forbiddingly, feet set in a wide stance. He leveled a glare around the room, holding eye contact with several of the women in turn. There were wolf whistles and cat calls and outright shrieks as they took him in. He wore his black turnout gear, jacket open and loose showing the suspenders and his Las Vegas Fire and Rescue tee shirt underneath.
He didn't let his eyes linger on the huge buffet of cakes and booze he could see in the back of the room. God, he would kill for a slice of that penis cake. It was a huge pain in the ass, keeping the body fat percentage that would let him show off his six-pack abs and the muscle definition in his chest and arms.
He shrugged off his coat, flicking it away toward the back of the stage.
"Ladies," he addressed his audience. His natural voice boomed over the raucous noise of the crowd. He prided himself on never needing a mic. "If I could have your attention?"
They quieted down.
"I just want to be clear about one thing," he continued, as he deliberately undid his suspenders and stepped out of his turnout pants, turning to toss them away as well. He turned his attention back to the rapt women.
"I am not a stripper," he declared, resuming his crossed-arms stance, staring down the room again. You could have heard a pin drop.
"I'm just a fire fighter who really… really… loves his pole," he deadpanned. Then he cracked a huge grin and winked and the room went up in laughter and screaming as he mounted the pole and began his routine.
He spun. He floated, first with two arms, then with one arm. With another grin and wink to the watching party, he did the Fireman. The routine progressed through various Spinners and Chairs. He arched back, gripping only with his knees, and peeled off his shirt before it got too sweaty. He flung it in the direction of the bride, who he had spotted early on, sitting in the best seat in the house, looking very, very drunk. She caught it with a whoop, and he let himself lower all the way until he was inverted on the pole in perfect crescent. The bride somewhat tentatively reached out and stroked his bare, smooth chest, shrieking and snatching her hand back when he flexed his abs and righted himself for more spins around his prop.
He briefly dismounted his pole with his back to the room, standing with his feet well apart. He bent deeply at the waist and reached though, grabbing his waistband and ripping away his trick cotton firehouse uniform trousers. He flung them to the back of the stage to another eruption of appreciative shouts. With the thong on, he was showing them his bare ass now, and he knew exactly how hot he was. He would appear to be standing there naked in his heavy leather boots. They weren't regulation footwear, but erotic dance wasn't strictly about authenticity, after all. He flexed, making the muscles ripple across his back.
He didn't even jump when the bride slapped him hard on the right buttcheek. He just looked over his shoulder and gave her his best devilish grin. One of the bridesmaids was stuffing money in his boot.
He whipped around the pole to show himself off from the front, and the house came down when they saw the LVFR crest emblazoned on his banana warmer. He laughed with them and climbed his pole again, hooking his legs around for a moment and crossing his arms again, staring them down sternly before lifting his whole body with his arms and spinning himself around in an acrobatic move that never failed to win him a few gasps. It also showed off every detail of his musculature, from bulging shoulders and biceps to deeply chiseled abs to thick sleek quads and beautiful calves.
When he changed back stage, he peeled about a thousand bucks in cash from behind the band of his thong and from inside his boots.
Yeah, he loved getting a booking at this place.
He traded the thong for boxer briefs and pulled on his jeans. He was rubbing the towel over his chest again when he caught sight of the next act.
Suddenly his jeans were way too tight in the crotch.
The guy was built, even more heavily muscled than Jack, who could never bulk up quite like that. Jack always had a lean, rangy musculature. This kid was all biceps, broad shoulders, and absolutely impossibly tapered waist and hips. His painted on leather pants highlighted pertly rounded buttocks.
Somewhere an announcer introduced him as Daniel.
Daniel carried two long, thin black sheer scarves, and he was moving from the beginning. No cheesy poses, or dancing girl moves. His dance was more about strength than grace, though his hips moved with a lithe fluidity, and his belly and chest undulated with a sleek precision that drew Jack back out onto the stage. Daniel was moving and twisting like an F5 tornado when Jack stepped deliberately into his path and Daniel crashed into him, chest to chest. The shocked alarm on Daniel's face transitioned to anger then to pure ice-blue lust as denim and leather failed to disguise the raging hard on Jack was pressing into Daniel's waist. Jack leaned in and whispered into Daniel's ear.
"I am going to fuck you so fucking hard."
Daniel leaned away, separating their bare chests, leaving them joined at the groin. Jack wasn't holding Daniel. Daniel could have returned to his dance, left Jack standing there like the asshole he was. The room had gone silent at Jack's strange intrusion into the other dancer's routine. Then Daniel deliberately and fluidly turned his back to Jack, his hip dragging across Jack's package, then his perfect ass pressing against him. The sheer scarves trailed around and over Jack.
"Oh, yeah," Jack murmured, and the women went wild.
Daniel moved and Jack followed. He didn't have all Daniel's skill, but he knew how to move his body. The courtship dance that followed felt like raw sex, and it was definitely not clear at all who was going to be fucking whom when it was done. Daniel's moves were as aggressive and predatory as Jack's intrusion onto the stage had been.
Daniel led them to the edge of the platform, showing that just like Jack, Daniel never quite forgot about his audience. He turned to face the room, every smooth undulation and twist of Daniel's hips rubbing against Jack's now throbbing, but tightly-contained, erection. The women certainly didn't miss it. More than one groping hand made its way between their bodies.
Daniel moved them back again, spinning in Jack's arms, the scarves spiraling around them. Then Daniel broke away and left Jack there at the back of the platform while he finished his dance with a tumbling routine that brought the crowd out of their chairs. Jack crossed his arms and struck a pose of appraisal, flaunting his arousal, not flinching when Daniel reversed his series of flips to land chest-to-chest with him again.
For their exit, Daniel placed both hands on Jack's chest and gracelessly shoved him toward the gap in the curtains. Jack gave their audience a grin and a rakish wink, and let himself be bullied out of sight.
Vala howled delightedly as the bare-chested dancers on the stage fell to their knees, dry-humping the air, grabbing their crotches.
Jack could not believe that Carter, of all people, would let Vala, of all people, organize her party.
"I think someone should have informed Vala that bachelorette parties are for bachelor-ettes, " Jack yelled into Daniel's ear. The music was pounding. He couldn't hear anything but the loudest yells of the crowd over the din.
"Think of it as exploring an alien culture," Daniel yelled back. "Complete with courtship dances and elaborate rituals for the acceptance of major new cultural roles, such as marriage."
The music abruptly cut off, so that Daniel shouted "such as marriage" quite loudly into the suddenly very quiet room.
The archaeologist shrank back into his seat in uncharacteristic embarrassment.
"I see we have a couple of gate crashers in the crowd," the half-naked em-cee noted from the stage. "They sure don't look like bachelor-ettes," he paused dramatically, "…to me." He leered at the bride's table. Carter ate it up, as far as Jack could see. Jack just felt unsettled that apparently he and the stripper thought exactly the same thoughts.
Teal'c's glower could not have been more forbidding, but the guy didn't seem the least bit intimidated. Jack had to give it to these dancers – they were built. Probably spent all their non-stripping time in the gym. It was possible they actually thought they could take Teal'c. Wouldn't that make a fun bachelorette party activity?
"The ever-lovely Vala has suggested that maybe they belong up here with us, instead of down there with you…"
There was much dramatic nodding amongst the dancing troupe. Vala stalked over, grabbing Teal'c with one hand, Daniel with the other, and tugging them to their feet. She took one look at Jack's face and didn't even try to get him involved. He was pleased that in a crunch, he was scarier than Teal'c. No way was he playing along with her antics. Just being in this place was bad enough. He was not getting up on that stage. This was one time he was going to stand on his dignity as the CO.
Teal'c and Daniel allowed themselves to be drawn, with only token protest, onto the stage. The pounding rock music resumed. Daniel had worn a nice shirt and slacks. Teal'c had come dressed in his favorite cowboy garb. Their shirts came off. Teal'c's wide-brimmed hat stayed on. Their leather and fine wool stood out in the sea of matching denim the dancers wore. Otherwise, Jack had to admit that Daniel and Teal'c looked like they belonged up there with the other eye-candy.
A couple of lead dancers took their places toward the front of the stage, with Daniel and Teal'c prominently placed in the middle of the line behind. With expressions of deep concentration, the his two teammates followed the dancers. Not that the moves themselves were particularly complicated. It was all mimed sex and strutting, as far as Jack could tell.
Watching Daniel thrust his hips and flaunt his crotch, Jack suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
He turned away from the spectacle on the stage to survey the room, full of other officers and the wives of other officers. Sam and Vala were on their feet, laughing and flushed and drunk, yelling inarticulately for bump-and-grind moves that Jack was no longer watching.
Definitely a room full of aliens, he decided.
She spun and whirled with powerful grace, the scarves winding around her, hiding and revealing in equal parts. Her dark eyes over her veil never left Daniel, though her dance was supposed to be in honor of the newlyweds, sitting on thrones just to Daniel's left.
Jack sat in a place of honor at the end of the table. Teal'c sat by Daniel. Carter leaned over and murmured something into Teal'c's ear that brought a slight lift of his eyebrow. From Carter's bright smile, Jack figured they were sharing amusement at the beautiful dancer's attention to their archaeologist. Jack wondered suddenly if he ever looked at Daniel like that; if Teal'c and Carter ever shared that moment of amusement over Jack's obvious, smitten absorption.
The music came to a sudden end. The dancer saluted the bride and groom. Jack was still watching his team, when the looks of sudden shock on their faces had his P90 in his hands even before he turned to see.
The dancer had dropped her veil. She could have been Sha'uri's sister – the delicate oval face, the dark, silken curls, the joy in her eyes and her gentle, shy smile as she dropped a deep curtsey to the father of the bride and the leader of this tribe.
Daniel's knuckles were white where he gripped his knees, now staring down at the tassels on his seating cushion and his own crossed ankles.
The dancer's smile wavered as she withdrew from the table. Trays of food were brought out and placed where her dancing bare feet had been moments before.
Then the father of the bride began the toasts and Jack's obligations as the leader of the Tau'ri meant that he had to tear his eyes away and couldn't keep staring as Daniel's heart broke all over again.
If you're interested, all my stories, in order, from one page. Also, my fiction recommendations.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-10 02:09 pm (UTC)2. It would make Vala's LIFE to have Daniel and Muscles up on that stage! Drunk!Sam would just laugh her ass off. :D (So is the reason Cam's not there losing his pants that he's the groom? :-)
1. GUH!!!!!!!
no subject
Date: 2011-11-01 02:08 am (UTC)thank you!
no subject
Date: 2011-10-11 07:06 am (UTC)Wow, and they're all winners. The hawtness of Jack in the first one in sharp contrast to his commitment to dignity in the second one, and then the gut punch of the final one. Oh, Daniel. I hope Jack takes his pain away. *meeps*
no subject
Date: 2011-10-13 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-01 12:52 am (UTC)