URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asb/berty/fivewint.php
Summary: Jack O'Neill isn't a man known for his tact, but he has his moments.
Info: Written for the Pepesplace Five WInter Things Challenge
One
Jack is speechless. He'd thought last year's present of a bible and some socks was an all time low, but this gift reaches depths of suck that he feels it's unfair to expect eleven year old boys to deal with.
"Try it on, Jack," his mother suggests sweetly, although her eyes promise a quick death and a shallow grave if he dares to voice any of the thoughts that are plainly visible on his face.
"It's your favourite colour - I asked your father," his Grandma says with a proud smile.
And although baby blue is seriously uncool and most definitely not his favourite colour (air force blue... navy blue at a push), that's not the worst thing about this... garment. (To call it a sweater would imply a connection with clothing of a more functional and stylish nature.)
"She knitted it herself, Jack," his Dad adds, his cheeks pink and his lips quirking as he suppresses the urge to laugh. "You wouldn't know it, would you?"
One sleeve is eight feet long and the other appears out of the body at waist height. Jack isn't sure which of the three holes at the top he's supposed to put his head through.
"Thanks, Grandma," he says, "I'll wear it to mass later."
The church is always freezing and his smart coat is big and long - with any luck it will cover most of his Christmas present from his kindly but seriously myopic Grandma O'Neill.
Two
"It's traditional," should never be a reason to do something in Jack's book. But here he is, freezing his ass off, tired and longing for his bed, yet dutifully standing in a light drizzle in his wife's backwards home town, singing "Silent Night" for the eighteenth time tonight. Harried shoppers scramble past, searching for last minute gifts while his mother-in-law sends him icy glares whenever he gets the words wrong.
Sara, however, is glowing, beautiful by the light of her lantern and sending him soft, knowing smiles between verses.
This time next year they'll be a family of three.
And they'll be spending Christmas at home.
Three
Jack finds the punch bowl unattended and takes his time refilling his glass. The party is in full swing behind him; some kind of jazz music playing softly, the burble of conversation punctuated with barks of laughter quickly stifled.
General West's New Year party is a kind of polite pissing contest - getting an invitation at all is an indicator of how high you're flying in the brass's good books (pun entirely intended.)
Jack hates these things with a passion, but he's good at his job and this is just another part of that, and something that Sara has never accepted. To be the military man you need to play by a certain set of rules, and not just when you're in uniform. Jack skirts the edge of enough of those rules already, and that's why he's here tonight alone, putting in face time while his wife and son are spending the weekend with her parents.
"Hello, Jack."
Jack smiles his first genuine smile of the night and turns toward the distinctive voice of General Carter.
"General," Jack says, reminding himself not to salute - this is an informal gathering, or so he's been told.
"Jacob," Carter corrects him easily without making him feel like an idiot. "Enjoying the party?"
"Like you wouldn't believe, sir," Jack says deadpan, and the general chuckles quietly.
Jacob Carter is one of those rare career military men whose dedication Jack admires. He's straight talking without being blunt, and accomplished without being overly ambitious. There's no hidden agenda with Carter.
"So, Jack, we've been seeing your name on a lot of successful mission reports. How'd that come about?"
"A guy hangs around somewhere long enough, the law of averages means you have to get a lucky break or two," Jack says with a shrug.
Carter looks at him, a small smile twisting his lips, softening his otherwise austere face. "If you can stand it, there are some people who'd like to meet you. Interesting people. Useful people."
"Useful, sir?"
"And interesting, Jack. Life should always be interesting."
Jack can't argue with that, so he grips his glass tightly and follows Jacob Carter to try to make a good impression on the people who'll probably be deciding his next posting.
Four
"Are you sure you don't need some help?"
There's a cheerful negative closely followed by an almighty crash from the kitchen. Jack shares a look with his fellow victims... guests... and raises an eyebrow.
"I shall ascertain whether Major Carter's self-sufficiency is ongoing," Teal'c murmurs and withdraws with a nod of his head.
"You know, we could have taken her somewhere nice. Somewhere they serve good food. Like steak," Jack hisses.
Daniel glares at him. "She insisted. She wanted us all here."
"She wants to poison us for her birthday?"
"Be nice," Daniel mutters, handing him a pile of napkins which Jack dutifully takes and begins to lay out on the table.
They've been here for forty minutes, and only seen Carter for three of those. The rest of the time she's been shut in the kitchen, accompanied by clattering, whizzing, banging and increasingly distressing odours.
The table is laid meticulously, and even Daniel can't think of anything else to do to it because he's running a finger along Carter's CD collection, looking increasingly bemused.
"We could, you know..." Jack mimes two people running away with his fingers. "Sudden emergency?"
Daniel rolls his eyes at him. "Jack, please. Sam's worked really hard at this."
"Doesn't mean it's edible," Jack grouses quietly.
Daniel glances toward the kitchen, then moves into Jack's space and runs a warm hand up Jack's forearm. This thing they have is still new enough that even that simple gesture gets a stir of interest from below. "C'mon, Jack," Daniel murmurs. "You can do this."
And then it's the moment of truth, because the kitchen door opens and Carter emerges, laden down with flatware, telling them it's time to sit down. Teal'c helps her to set the dishes out, and he's a braver man that Jack is, because his expression is undaunted in the face of their contents.
The orange dish might be carrot, Jack thinks, and if he scrapes enough of the black off then the unidentified meat might be edible.
Carter's smile is bright, if a little strained as they all take their places.
"Wow, Sam," Daniel says, "This looks amazing." And Jack's never again going to take anything he says for the truth, because he sounds totally convincing.
But Carter looks at Daniel gratefully as she takes his plate and begins to load it up with some of the green... stuff, and Jack has a moment of utter love for his team and the things that they'll do for each other.
Even to the extent of eating Sam Carter's notoriously dreadful cooking.
"Can I have some extra of that?" Jack asks, indicating the potential carrots as he passes his own plate over. Carter's smile is pleased and pretty, but the gratitude in Daniel's eyes is something Jack can work with later.
Besides, he has Pepto-Bismol in the car.
Five
Jack pulls out and sinks to his heels, gritting his teeth. Daniel's ass is hot and tight and absolutely, exactly where he wants to be right now. He's so close, even the sudden chill of the air against his slicked up cock is almost too much to bear.
"Daniel?"
Daniel makes a needy, incoherent sound and presses back against Jack's palms on his hips, demanding more.
Jack will concede that there are worse places to be on Christmas Eve than in bed with a genius, even if that genius is a pushy, selfish, slutty bottom named Daniel Jackson, who's already come once this evening and is now chasing his second orgasm while Jack is so desperate with waiting, he's clumsy with it.
Daniel's hole is wet and pink and a little swollen and it looks absolutely fucking perfect. Jack longs to bury himself as deep as he can and fuck Daniel hard and fast, to fill him up and hear his voice break with curses and pleas. But Daniel isn't as close as Jack is due to the rather innovative blow-job that Jack gave him earlier, and Jack knows that if he doesn't get Daniel off again now, the chances of a second round when they wake up in the morning will be slim.
No one can sulk like Daniel can.
Jack could have gone for an easy life, he thinks sometimes - he's had offers. He could have found someone less complicated, he could have stuck to casual affairs or backroom pick-ups. Hell, he could have settled down with a new wife and lived the life he'd always imagined he'd have.
But none of that got him Daniel with his petulance and his hard-core coffee habit, his bookish distraction and high-maintenance ways; Daniel, with his sweet smile and his intensity, his subtle wit and his gorgeous, gorgeous ass.
Damn him - he's worth it.
Jack spread his palms wider, kneading the muscles in Daniel's ass and letting his thumbs brush over his hole teasingly before pressing deeper and opening him up. He leans in closer and blows gently over Daniel's exposed skin, making him shiver and twitch. Jack would lick him, press sucking, hot kisses to Daniel's hole, but he's already so slick that Jack knows he won't be able to taste Daniel at all, and he hates the flavour of the lube.
Before Daniel gets it into his head that that's what he wants, Jack trails one hand down the cleft of Daniel's ass and fondles his smooth, warm balls, tucked up tight against his groin.
Daniel groans and shifts his hips toward Jack who is momentarily distracted by the play of muscles in Daniel's thighs and back. But Daniel's moans become more insistent and Jack takes the hint, brushing the tiny wet hairs around Daniel's hole into a swirl with a rough thumb before pushing in quickly with three fingers.
Daniel's grunt is throaty and beautiful to Jack's ears, and he takes his time to work as deeply as he can, alternating quick, light touches with slow, hard pressure against his prostate. Daniel's muscles flow around Jack's fingers, heat and power and purpose. The headiness of understanding his lover's body so well spurs Jack further than he's dared with others. Instinctively knowing what will drive Daniel even higher, Jack adds his pinkie finger and turns his hand, stretching him wider and shattering any pretence that Daniel might have had of being in control.
His head hung between shaking arms, his skin glistening a little with sweat, Jack stares at Daniel and takes a moment to fully appreciate this gift that he's somehow managed to end up with. Unlooked for, he's found a measure of the luck he'd once taken for granted.
He won't make that mistake twice.
"Jack, please, I need..."
But Jack's already there; he knows this man so well. He knows that when Daniel's whines get this high, when his breathing stutters like this, when his hole flutters around Jack's fingers, that Daniel needs his cock inside him.
The irritation is gone and Jack's need for a hard, fast fuck with it. He slides into Daniel smoothly and slowly, letting him adjust to the thickness of his cock, letting him spread his thighs wider and roll out his shoulders. And when he's ready, Jack begins to stroke in, easy and deep. He's got the perfect angle, he knows in the way Daniel's hips rise to meet him, in the way he fists the sheet beneath them, in the way his breath evens out to match Jack's pace.
Jack feels like he could keep Daniel on the edge like this for hours if he chose to. He rides the sharpness of his own need for release like a wave, rising and falling but never cresting. But Daniel is moaning constantly now, quiet and desperate, so Jack hooks an arm around his waist and pulls his weight backwards, so Daniel is on his lap. His knees will hate him later, but it's worth it to get that last half-inch inside Daniel and to hear him mewl like that.
He can't get much movement going, but that proves to be no problem as Daniel convulses in his arms and comes again, thighs wide, cock jerking and chest heaving. Jack is taken by surprise at how completely Daniel shatters and comes undone himself, pouring inside Daniel while he rides Jack's cock, working them both through this. Jack feels the spreading dampness of his own release as it slips out of Daniel's body and onto his groin, and he gets a hand between them to slide his fingers around the base of his slippery cock and up inside Daniel where he's hottest.
It's Daniel who eventually pulls off and heaves at him, until they are arranged to his liking on the ruined sheets. He covers them both with the comforter against the chill that is already prickling at Jack's skin.
Daniel settles at his side, wrapped around him and breathing damply against Jack's shoulder. And Jack was right, his knees do hate him, but it's a quiet grumble under the singing hum of his happy heart.
Fin
