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Halloween Coffee

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Jack scratched at his tousled hair as he reached the bedroom, two mugs of fresh coffee in hand.  His eyes instantly sought the bed and he paused at the threshold.  A heavy ache filled his chest, but instead of a negative cause, this was filled with a love he had no power over.  It spread through him like syrup, sickeningly sweet and permeable.  With it, there was a generous dose of rebellion, aimed at society, at anyone outside.

He’d always been bisexual, but over the years, he’d buried his love for men.  Not so much out of a sense of inner homophobia, but when he loved, he loved wholly.  And it had just been a matter of fact that he’d never found any man he could love that way, or that much.  Still, he knew that he carried a bit of fear within, not wanting to bridge the uncommon or unaccepted.  And really, there’d never been a man worth burning that particular bridge.

And then along came Daniel Jackson:  A quirky, selfless, enigmatic man who’d die for both him and a stranger with equal measures of idealism.  Daniel.  Handsome, aggravating, hot, sexy, irritating.  And insanely good in bed.

It had taken the SGC’s Halloween party to bring to the surface Jack’s hidden and buried desire.  All at once and with the strength of a tsunami.  Daniel had shown up at the party, and had completely taken Jack by surprise; he’d been wearing the masked costume of Zorro.  It had fit him somehow.  Zorro, a hero for the underdog, the poor, the preyed-upon.  And damn if he didn’t look good in black.

For some reason, the costume had taken away all the trappings of the SGC, of their history together, and turned Daniel into someone he’d never seen:  normal.  Let’s face it.  Daniel wasn’t normal.  His IQ notwithstanding, the man looked at life through a lateral lens.  And drove Jack crazy.  Last night, especially so.

Jack stared at the man in his bed, lying on his back, face toward him, the blanket and sheet covering him up to the abdomen.  His skin was lightly tanned, and Jack couldn’t figure out how that could be, since Daniel never seemed to have the time to be out in the sun without a shirt—or anything else.

A little heat of shyness, perhaps embarrassment, spread over Jack’s face, then body.  Images of the night before came to him, filling Jack with sense memory.  The way Daniel’s lips felt, his tongue.  Hands with long, strong fingers, which had only previously been used for emphasis and work, had touched him with surety, lust, and if Jack was honest, demanding power.

His body was strong, strong in the way he’d never thought about before.  Hips with amazing dexterity, thrusting, circling, like a dance.  Then the image of his lips over his cock, his mouth swallowing him, drawing him in, bringing him to climax with wonderful speed.  And his cock.  He tasted of warm leather, alive, pulsing, and heavy in his own hands and mouth.

But the best had been the feel of that cock inside him.  Daniel had been so careful, so maddeningly gentle.  At first.  He’d played Jack like an instrument.  The undulating rhythm, slow and delicious, then hotter, conjuring more lust and need than Jack had felt in years.  It had been so … good.

Daniel stretched then, and opened his eyes.  He caught sight of Jack, and a small turn of his lips telegraphed happiness.  And then he saw the coffee mugs and rose up on an elbow.

“I love you,” he said, eyes on the coffee.

Jack grinned and walked over, sitting down on the bed, and handing Daniel the mug.  “You mean you love the coffee,” he said, with just a touch, just a soupçon of disappointment.  He took a drink at the same time as Daniel, but then Daniel put his mug on the night stand, then took Jack’s and set it down next to his.

He pushed up a little more and reached up to frame Jack’s face with a warm, dry hand.  He stared into Jack’s eyes, communicating a lifetime full of desire and meaning and explanations.

Then he pulled Jack down to him.  “I love you,” he whispered, and with a small grin, added, “Happy Halloween,” before he made love to Jack again, filling his heart with a much deeper ache.  Strong, arduous, loving, and at times, comical.

And again, so very, very good in bed.

 

End