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brainofckA long, long overdue sequel. I thought I needed to get out of my recent angry-Daniel rut, plus put this poor WIP out of it's misery!
Title: Always Finish with Chocolate (or The Mummy Returns) (2/2) (follows What to Do?)
Author:muck_a_luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Daniel and Jack try to decide if they are a couple. Classic first date. Dinner and a movie.
Content/warnings: None.
Spoilers: None.
Words: 2040
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
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only.muck_a_luck and brainofck
The Matrix: The Matrix is located here. This one is Dinner.
Daniel had dressed to impress. There was no point in trying to pretend this wasn't a date. Or rather that Jack hadn't proposed a date and Daniel hadn't accepted it.
He didn't have a clue what he thought he was doing, actually. Jack was his friend. Jack was his co-worker. Jack was his commanding officer in the field, sorta, to the extent a civilian was part of the command structure in any meaningful way. Not to mention that Daniel had never even really considered this sort of thing. Dating a guy. Thing.
Jack opened the door with a smile.
"Right on time, Dannyboy! I suppose this is what comes of the team synchronizing our watches at least once a week. Wow..."
Jack had gone from Jack on any given night, to Jack checking out his date. Apparently, Daniel had gotten it right. Faded jeans, dark, rich, blue silk shirt, and long black wool coat against the late fall chill. Black boots to finish the outfit. Jack took it all in and raised his eyes to Daniel's with a devilish grin.
"Now I feel underdressed," Jack said, stepping aside to let Daniel through.
Before he realized what was happening, Jack was taking his coat, tossing it onto the bed in the guest room.
"No! Um…" Daniel trailed off when Jack turned in response to Daniel's protest with a raised eyebrow. Jack looked perfect, in a crisply ironed and possibly starched fitted cotton shirt that accented his broad shoulders and tapered waist and a pair of khaki's that looked perfectly relaxed while showing the curve of his ass. They draped down over his bare feet. Daniel noticed the house was warmer than usual.
"Not underdressed. Never. Um." He stammered bit, and Jack's smile at his nervousness went no further than a warming of those wonderful brown eyes. "You look … great?" He finally managed. Then he couldn't quite hold the eye contact. He went for redirection. "Wow! It smells fantastic in here! Are you baking?!"
"Always end with chocolate. Gotta love Betty Crocker," Jack said. Daniel couldn't quite look at Jack to find out if the smirk had finally made it to Jack's whole face.
"Is there anything I can do?" Daniel asked, recovering from his further shock at seeing brownies cooling on the counter, even if they were from a box.
"Garlic bread?" Jack suggested.
Garlic bread had become Daniel's assigned contribution to every team dinner hosted by anybody. Ever since he brought the dahl and na'an. So he didn't like bland dahl... He didn't know why everyone held it against him for years.
Daniel saw all his garlic bread ingredients laid out on the counter.
"I put out the butter for you," Jack said. It sounded dirty to Daniel. He wasn't sure if it was actually the way Jack said it, or just Daniel's own brain, casting everything in a different way tonight.
Daniel rolled up his sleeves and went to work as Jack put food on the table. It was actually a pretty simple meal, although it smelled incredible. Baked chicken thighs and root vegetables. The potatoes and carrots would be soft and full of chicken grease. Tossed salads with bottled ranch dressing. And Daniel's garlic bread. And Betty Crocker's brownies.
He dipped his finger into the bowl of butter, garlic and parmesean cheese as Jack was reaching across the island for the salt and pepper shakers. Jack intercepted his hand on the way to his mouth. He took Daniel's garlic-butter covered finger between his lips and swirled his tongue over the first joint, eyes contemplatively half-closed. Daniel watched him, cheeks flushing hot. Jack lifted his gaze and met Daniel's wide, surprised stare.
"Too much?" Jack murmured.
"Maybe," Daniel agreed huskily. "I'm also a little out of practice," he said with a nervous smile.
"Okay," Jack said mischievously. He dipped his own finger into the bowl. "What do you think?"
He touched his finger to Daniel's lips.
The whole thing was so odd. Jack was often affectionate and physical, but Jack flirting was spooking him more than a little, even if it was also a lot sexier than Daniel had been able to imagine it being in the twenty hours or so since he'd been invited.
What the hell, Daniel thought to himself. This was the reason he was here, right? It was a date.
Daniel tentatively tasted Jack's finger, slipping his tongue out and sampling Jack's skin along with the butter.
"Needs more garlic," he said, feeling a little out of breath. Jack was smiling.
"Really?" he asked. "I didn't think so. Let me try it again."
He pulled Daniel's hand aside and leaned in to run his tongue over Daniel's bottom lip.
It was the briefest possible kiss. A moist touch, a warm breath, then Jack was grinning at him.
"There. First kiss with a guy, out of the way. Now you don't have to be dreading it all evening. And you're right. It does need more garlic."
Daniel hadn't been in a state like this in years – maybe ever. His first reflex was to roll his eyes, except that his heart was thundering and his hands were trembling where he was touching Jack and his lips were tingling and he felt a little dizzy.
But Jack was right, damn him. They had now kissed. The deed was done. Daniel went ahead and rolled his eyes. Then he crushed another clove of garlic.
They sat down a Jack's square table on adjacent sides, rather than across as they usually would. Jack bumped Daniel's thigh with his knee.
"Whatcha wanna watch?" Jack asked just before cramming a huge forkful of salad into his mouth.
"Options?" Daniel asked.
"I got Top Gun, The Mummy Returns and The Bridges of Madison County."
Daniel smirked.
"Old guy woos middle aged woman, huh. Nice date flick for us. I don't know whether to be insulted to be the woman in the relationship, or flattered to be Meryl Streep."
"Hey. Old, foxy guy," Jack replied.
Daniel laughed and tried to envision Eastwood as "foxy." He was mildly alarmed to find it could work.
"Moving on," he muttered under his breath. So not the time for a homophobic freak out. Even a mild one.
"So we've got the romantic option and two satirical options. You had to get the sequel?!"
"Oh, yeah. And it's got a kid in it."
Daniel groaned.
"Well, I'm not sure I can stand the horror of watching you tear up over Goose's death again. And I'm not sure you could stand the horror, or I could stand the humiliation, if I got all emotional over Clint and Meryl, so The Mummy it is."
Jack laughed and pelted Daniel with a carrot. It was juvenile and relaxed and so not Jack and yet so very Jack.
Daniel decided he liked it.
Daniel sat on the couch were he always did. Right in the middle smack in front of the TV. Jack found it supremely annoying, particularly when Daniel proceeded to read a book. Jack put in the movie, then collapsed into his usual corner of the sofa, glaring at him.
"You're not sticking me with the dishes. I cooked."
"I thought this was supposed to be a date? I'm supposed to work now?"
"We could have romantically done the dishes together with much romantic splashing of suds and reaching around," Jack said glumly. "Here, at least sit closer," he demanded, reaching out to tug Daniel by the arm.
"Well, that's direct. I thought you were supposed to put your arm across the back of the couch and…" At which point Jack gave a hard pull and Daniel kind of fell over, bashing his shoulder into Jack's ribs and stomach.
"Caveman," Daniel muttered, just as Jack commented, "Nice silk."
Daniel snorted and pushed himself back up again. He resettled on the couch closer to Jack, who humphed but kept his hands to himself. Probably just because he knew gravity was his friend now, as the natural slump of the cushions was already drawing Daniel inevitably closer.
The movie was as abysmal as Daniel expected, though the kid was actually not too bad and the whole thing was a visual thrill ride. Still, he was pretty sure it beat sobbing over Bridges. Though he wondered if maybe spending a couple of hours getting used to the idea of Clint being a sexy old guy might have helped his cause. The gravity well had sucked him practically into Jack's lap within fifteen minutes. That was a thrill ride, too. Everytime Jack jumped or yelled or tensed up and shifted in response to the ridiculous action sequences on the screen, Daniel was there for the whole experience. Jack was a physical guy watching a movie, Daniel realized. And it was disturbingly arousing.
"Hey!" Jack said suddenly. "You said we'd eat the brownies later!"
"Okay," Daniel said, "I guess it's later now."
"Excellent," Jack breathed in his favorite Mr. Burns imitation.
It was all very Jack, except when he steepled his fingers like Mr. Burns, his hand were meeting in front of Daniel's chest.
"Though I suppose that means you're going to have to move, Dr. Jackson," Jack prompted him.
"I think you need to move your arms, first," Daniel suggested.
"Maybe I don't want to," Jack murmured. Daniel didn't remember Jack talking right into his ear like that before. The feel of the words over his skin left tingles all up and down his arms and sent a distinctive warmth into his belly.
"Really," Daniel replied, equally softly. He turned so that they were face to face. Which Daniel noticed also brought them chest to chest. "I thought you were all about the chocolate with whipped cream?"
"I was gonna whip it up in the mixer, and add the sugar myself and everything, just for you, Dannyboy. But I've got the excellent kind in the squirt can, for our easily transportable enjoyment."
"I bet," Daniel breathed as he closed the miniscule distance separating them to kiss Jack's suddenly very tempting lips.
Jack's mouth was lush and hot and delicious. He made wonderful appreciative humming sounds while Daniel explored, and whenever Daniel opened his eyes, he found that Jack was watching him with the same hazy half-lidded liquid chocolate depth that had met Daniel's gaze over the finger-tasting earlier in the evening.
Daniel broke off the kiss and pulled back.
"You keep looking at me like that," Daniel accused softly. He was vaguely surprised to see his own fingers, tracing over Jack's perfectly shaved jaw, his beautiful cheekbones. He touched the crinkles at the corner of Jack's left eye.
"Like what?" Jack asked, his voice low rumble of banked lust that struck low in Daniel's gut.
"Like I'm food or something," Daniel replied, slightly flustered by the realization that after all the kissing Jack looked fairly edible himself, and plus, Daniel was feeling activity in below-the-waist areas that did not usually become active in the presence of other men.
Jack just smiled a slow lazy smile and leaned forward a little for a soft, lush kiss that only caused more, um, activity.
"I bet you'd taste great with whipped cream and chocolate," Jack hinted.
"Jeez. Betty Crocker fixation much?" Daniel fake groused, finally squirming away. Jack pushed out of his slump and headed for the kitchen. Daniel stole the corner spot, feeling a little frizzle of anticipation in the base of his spine anticipating the gravity well pulling Jack's weight down against him.
Jack reappeared with the tray of brownies, a butter knife to cut them, and the can of RediWhip. At Daniel's raised eyebrow, Jack shrugged.
"I can always make the real stuff for the french toast in the morning," Jack said casually. "Not to presume." Though Daniel noted that the trip to the kitchen had not lessened the tent in the front of Jack's khaki's.
Jack settled back on the couch, placing the pan of brownies in Daniel's lap and the can of whipped cream suggestively between his own knees and as the knife play began, Daniel's heart pounded out a heavy, quick backbeat and he shut his eyes and didn't at all anticipate the first taste of chocolate from Jack's clever tongue.
If you're interested, all my Stargate stories from one page.
Title: Always Finish with Chocolate (or The Mummy Returns) (2/2) (follows What to Do?)
Author:
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofckPairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Daniel and Jack try to decide if they are a couple. Classic first date. Dinner and a movie.
Content/warnings: None.
Spoilers: None.
Words: 2040
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
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only.
muck_a_luck and brainofckThe Matrix: The Matrix is located here. This one is Dinner.
Daniel had dressed to impress. There was no point in trying to pretend this wasn't a date. Or rather that Jack hadn't proposed a date and Daniel hadn't accepted it.
He didn't have a clue what he thought he was doing, actually. Jack was his friend. Jack was his co-worker. Jack was his commanding officer in the field, sorta, to the extent a civilian was part of the command structure in any meaningful way. Not to mention that Daniel had never even really considered this sort of thing. Dating a guy. Thing.
Jack opened the door with a smile.
"Right on time, Dannyboy! I suppose this is what comes of the team synchronizing our watches at least once a week. Wow..."
Jack had gone from Jack on any given night, to Jack checking out his date. Apparently, Daniel had gotten it right. Faded jeans, dark, rich, blue silk shirt, and long black wool coat against the late fall chill. Black boots to finish the outfit. Jack took it all in and raised his eyes to Daniel's with a devilish grin.
"Now I feel underdressed," Jack said, stepping aside to let Daniel through.
Before he realized what was happening, Jack was taking his coat, tossing it onto the bed in the guest room.
"No! Um…" Daniel trailed off when Jack turned in response to Daniel's protest with a raised eyebrow. Jack looked perfect, in a crisply ironed and possibly starched fitted cotton shirt that accented his broad shoulders and tapered waist and a pair of khaki's that looked perfectly relaxed while showing the curve of his ass. They draped down over his bare feet. Daniel noticed the house was warmer than usual.
"Not underdressed. Never. Um." He stammered bit, and Jack's smile at his nervousness went no further than a warming of those wonderful brown eyes. "You look … great?" He finally managed. Then he couldn't quite hold the eye contact. He went for redirection. "Wow! It smells fantastic in here! Are you baking?!"
"Always end with chocolate. Gotta love Betty Crocker," Jack said. Daniel couldn't quite look at Jack to find out if the smirk had finally made it to Jack's whole face.
"Is there anything I can do?" Daniel asked, recovering from his further shock at seeing brownies cooling on the counter, even if they were from a box.
"Garlic bread?" Jack suggested.
Garlic bread had become Daniel's assigned contribution to every team dinner hosted by anybody. Ever since he brought the dahl and na'an. So he didn't like bland dahl... He didn't know why everyone held it against him for years.
Daniel saw all his garlic bread ingredients laid out on the counter.
"I put out the butter for you," Jack said. It sounded dirty to Daniel. He wasn't sure if it was actually the way Jack said it, or just Daniel's own brain, casting everything in a different way tonight.
Daniel rolled up his sleeves and went to work as Jack put food on the table. It was actually a pretty simple meal, although it smelled incredible. Baked chicken thighs and root vegetables. The potatoes and carrots would be soft and full of chicken grease. Tossed salads with bottled ranch dressing. And Daniel's garlic bread. And Betty Crocker's brownies.
He dipped his finger into the bowl of butter, garlic and parmesean cheese as Jack was reaching across the island for the salt and pepper shakers. Jack intercepted his hand on the way to his mouth. He took Daniel's garlic-butter covered finger between his lips and swirled his tongue over the first joint, eyes contemplatively half-closed. Daniel watched him, cheeks flushing hot. Jack lifted his gaze and met Daniel's wide, surprised stare.
"Too much?" Jack murmured.
"Maybe," Daniel agreed huskily. "I'm also a little out of practice," he said with a nervous smile.
"Okay," Jack said mischievously. He dipped his own finger into the bowl. "What do you think?"
He touched his finger to Daniel's lips.
The whole thing was so odd. Jack was often affectionate and physical, but Jack flirting was spooking him more than a little, even if it was also a lot sexier than Daniel had been able to imagine it being in the twenty hours or so since he'd been invited.
What the hell, Daniel thought to himself. This was the reason he was here, right? It was a date.
Daniel tentatively tasted Jack's finger, slipping his tongue out and sampling Jack's skin along with the butter.
"Needs more garlic," he said, feeling a little out of breath. Jack was smiling.
"Really?" he asked. "I didn't think so. Let me try it again."
He pulled Daniel's hand aside and leaned in to run his tongue over Daniel's bottom lip.
It was the briefest possible kiss. A moist touch, a warm breath, then Jack was grinning at him.
"There. First kiss with a guy, out of the way. Now you don't have to be dreading it all evening. And you're right. It does need more garlic."
Daniel hadn't been in a state like this in years – maybe ever. His first reflex was to roll his eyes, except that his heart was thundering and his hands were trembling where he was touching Jack and his lips were tingling and he felt a little dizzy.
But Jack was right, damn him. They had now kissed. The deed was done. Daniel went ahead and rolled his eyes. Then he crushed another clove of garlic.
They sat down a Jack's square table on adjacent sides, rather than across as they usually would. Jack bumped Daniel's thigh with his knee.
"Whatcha wanna watch?" Jack asked just before cramming a huge forkful of salad into his mouth.
"Options?" Daniel asked.
"I got Top Gun, The Mummy Returns and The Bridges of Madison County."
Daniel smirked.
"Old guy woos middle aged woman, huh. Nice date flick for us. I don't know whether to be insulted to be the woman in the relationship, or flattered to be Meryl Streep."
"Hey. Old, foxy guy," Jack replied.
Daniel laughed and tried to envision Eastwood as "foxy." He was mildly alarmed to find it could work.
"Moving on," he muttered under his breath. So not the time for a homophobic freak out. Even a mild one.
"So we've got the romantic option and two satirical options. You had to get the sequel?!"
"Oh, yeah. And it's got a kid in it."
Daniel groaned.
"Well, I'm not sure I can stand the horror of watching you tear up over Goose's death again. And I'm not sure you could stand the horror, or I could stand the humiliation, if I got all emotional over Clint and Meryl, so The Mummy it is."
Jack laughed and pelted Daniel with a carrot. It was juvenile and relaxed and so not Jack and yet so very Jack.
Daniel decided he liked it.
Daniel sat on the couch were he always did. Right in the middle smack in front of the TV. Jack found it supremely annoying, particularly when Daniel proceeded to read a book. Jack put in the movie, then collapsed into his usual corner of the sofa, glaring at him.
"You're not sticking me with the dishes. I cooked."
"I thought this was supposed to be a date? I'm supposed to work now?"
"We could have romantically done the dishes together with much romantic splashing of suds and reaching around," Jack said glumly. "Here, at least sit closer," he demanded, reaching out to tug Daniel by the arm.
"Well, that's direct. I thought you were supposed to put your arm across the back of the couch and…" At which point Jack gave a hard pull and Daniel kind of fell over, bashing his shoulder into Jack's ribs and stomach.
"Caveman," Daniel muttered, just as Jack commented, "Nice silk."
Daniel snorted and pushed himself back up again. He resettled on the couch closer to Jack, who humphed but kept his hands to himself. Probably just because he knew gravity was his friend now, as the natural slump of the cushions was already drawing Daniel inevitably closer.
The movie was as abysmal as Daniel expected, though the kid was actually not too bad and the whole thing was a visual thrill ride. Still, he was pretty sure it beat sobbing over Bridges. Though he wondered if maybe spending a couple of hours getting used to the idea of Clint being a sexy old guy might have helped his cause. The gravity well had sucked him practically into Jack's lap within fifteen minutes. That was a thrill ride, too. Everytime Jack jumped or yelled or tensed up and shifted in response to the ridiculous action sequences on the screen, Daniel was there for the whole experience. Jack was a physical guy watching a movie, Daniel realized. And it was disturbingly arousing.
"Hey!" Jack said suddenly. "You said we'd eat the brownies later!"
"Okay," Daniel said, "I guess it's later now."
"Excellent," Jack breathed in his favorite Mr. Burns imitation.
It was all very Jack, except when he steepled his fingers like Mr. Burns, his hand were meeting in front of Daniel's chest.
"Though I suppose that means you're going to have to move, Dr. Jackson," Jack prompted him.
"I think you need to move your arms, first," Daniel suggested.
"Maybe I don't want to," Jack murmured. Daniel didn't remember Jack talking right into his ear like that before. The feel of the words over his skin left tingles all up and down his arms and sent a distinctive warmth into his belly.
"Really," Daniel replied, equally softly. He turned so that they were face to face. Which Daniel noticed also brought them chest to chest. "I thought you were all about the chocolate with whipped cream?"
"I was gonna whip it up in the mixer, and add the sugar myself and everything, just for you, Dannyboy. But I've got the excellent kind in the squirt can, for our easily transportable enjoyment."
"I bet," Daniel breathed as he closed the miniscule distance separating them to kiss Jack's suddenly very tempting lips.
Jack's mouth was lush and hot and delicious. He made wonderful appreciative humming sounds while Daniel explored, and whenever Daniel opened his eyes, he found that Jack was watching him with the same hazy half-lidded liquid chocolate depth that had met Daniel's gaze over the finger-tasting earlier in the evening.
Daniel broke off the kiss and pulled back.
"You keep looking at me like that," Daniel accused softly. He was vaguely surprised to see his own fingers, tracing over Jack's perfectly shaved jaw, his beautiful cheekbones. He touched the crinkles at the corner of Jack's left eye.
"Like what?" Jack asked, his voice low rumble of banked lust that struck low in Daniel's gut.
"Like I'm food or something," Daniel replied, slightly flustered by the realization that after all the kissing Jack looked fairly edible himself, and plus, Daniel was feeling activity in below-the-waist areas that did not usually become active in the presence of other men.
Jack just smiled a slow lazy smile and leaned forward a little for a soft, lush kiss that only caused more, um, activity.
"I bet you'd taste great with whipped cream and chocolate," Jack hinted.
"Jeez. Betty Crocker fixation much?" Daniel fake groused, finally squirming away. Jack pushed out of his slump and headed for the kitchen. Daniel stole the corner spot, feeling a little frizzle of anticipation in the base of his spine anticipating the gravity well pulling Jack's weight down against him.
Jack reappeared with the tray of brownies, a butter knife to cut them, and the can of RediWhip. At Daniel's raised eyebrow, Jack shrugged.
"I can always make the real stuff for the french toast in the morning," Jack said casually. "Not to presume." Though Daniel noted that the trip to the kitchen had not lessened the tent in the front of Jack's khaki's.
Jack settled back on the couch, placing the pan of brownies in Daniel's lap and the can of whipped cream suggestively between his own knees and as the knife play began, Daniel's heart pounded out a heavy, quick backbeat and he shut his eyes and didn't at all anticipate the first taste of chocolate from Jack's clever tongue.
If you're interested, all my Stargate stories from one page.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 08:35 pm (UTC)