"I can't believe you're making me do this," Colonel Jack O'Neill hissed.
The recipient of his hissing, the Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, merely looked innocent. He dismissed Jack's objections as more formality than reality. No one outside of General Hammond could make the Colonel do something he really didn't want to do. In that elegant accent so typically mistaken as English by Americans who didn't realize aliens were living and working on Earth as part of a top-secret government project, Obi-Wan replied, "But Jack, you promised us long ago you would take us to some place we can dance together." Obi-Wan leaned back in the arms of his lover, the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon hugged Obi-Wan within the cradle of his arms, his physical support affirming his Padawan's reminder of Jack's promise.
Dr. Daniel Jackson shrugged and the big Jaffa Teal'c only raised his eyebrows when Jack looked to them for assistance.
With a disgusted shake of his head, Jack turned back to face the front of the line as it surged forward. The doorman at Pittsburgh's hottest gay night club, Babylon, however, seemed to have heard Jack's lament. Looking bored but polite, he said, "Members only. No pass, no entry."
"Well, guess that does that," Jack said gleefully as he turned to the others, quite unfazed at the rejection. "How 'bout a movie?" The excuse of specialized military training and an archaeological conference both occurring in Pennsylvania had been a great excuse to escape from the depths of the mountains and the constant trips to foreign planets where people tended to shoot at them, and see a nice, normal, American locale. Jack had been thrilled to pack up his crew and head to Pittsburgh. He was less excited by Obi-Wan's discovery of the gay side of this town and his insistence on visiting it, though a part of him was tempted by the chance to walk hand-in-hand with Daniel, his lover.
"A moment please, Jack," said Qui-Gon, stepping forward to be close to the doorman.
[Master, what are you doing?]
[Getting us in, Obi-Wan,] he replied, while leaning close to the doorman. "Here's my pass," he said, holding up the false Irish passport procured for him by General Hammond. His hand drifted slowly, the passport waving in front of the doorman's face.
"That's your pass," the doorman repeated dutifully.
"The others don't need passes."
"The others don't need passes."
"We should go right in."
"You should go right in."
"You're welcome," the doorman replied politely.
The five walked into Babylon, their ears instantly assaulted by the loud beat of the music. [I can't believe you did that!] thought Obi-Wan, sounding both shocked and amused. [I don't think the Council would condone mental control to crash nightclubs.]
[It feels right to be here.]
[It's the Will of the Force to have a good time?]
[I think we deserve it, don't you?]
[Yes, Master] Obi-Wan answered, but he shook his head ruefully. As much as he enjoyed living on Earth, sometimes he wasn't sure if it was the best place for Qui-Gon. His Master's rebellious instincts tended to emerge even more than on Coruscant, sometimes encouraged by Jack's maverick tendencies, other times in direct opposition to Jack's rare 'chain of command' moments.
Jack took one look at the gyrating male bodies that filled the floor of Babylon and yelled, "I need a beer! Come on Danny, let's go to the bar." He directed the others, "Find some place to sit and we'll bring some drinks."
"We're dancing," Obi-Wan said, grabbing Qui-Gon's hand and pulling him into the thick of the crowd.
"I will find a place to sit," Teal'c offered.
For a second Jack hesitated at leaving the Jaffa alone, truly a stranger in a strange land. Teal'c had been living on Earth for several years now, but was still relatively sheltered, staying mostly at the base, only rarely visiting town and interacting with civilians. But if Teal'c could handle hostile aliens on foreign planets, surely finding an empty table in a crowded nightclub wasn't beyond his capabilities. "Okay, we'll find you."
Daniel and Jack headed toward the bar, while Teal'c strolled through the throngs of male bodies, examining them with fascination, and headed toward the tables that lined the dance floor.
Across the room, Brian Kinney took a swig of his beer and studied the dancers. Options were grim tonight. The majority of guys at Babylon were regulars. He'd fucked them and he didn't need to do it again. One night was sufficient to know a guy's body and he wasn't interested in learning about their personal lives or emotions. With half of his attention, he listened to his friends banter as he searched for the hunk he wanted to take home tonight. Then a particular face caught his eye and he talked over Mike's raptures on the artistry of his newest comic book purchase, "I've seen what I want. I've gotta go."
"What about dinner?" Mike called as Brian stalked toward his prey.
Brian took a moment to turn back and smiled, "There's only one meal I'm eating tonight." He walked away, missing Emmett's soft, "Oh my."
Ted and Mike were both trying to figure out Brian's target but re-directed their attention to follow Emmett's gaze. He was staring at a man sitting down at one of the tables. The man was massively built, with impressive muscles displayed by the close-fitting black t-shirt and jeans he wore, a bald head, and skin the color of very dark, bitter-sweet chocolate. And Emmett loved chocolate. After Cher and cyber-sex, it was his very favorite thing.
"Weird tattoo. Wonder what it's made of?" Ted commented, straining to glimpse the gold mark on the guy's forehead as the light from the disco ball flashed off the shiny surface. "But a little out of your league. Pardon me, make that a *lot* out of your league." The accountant wasn't intentionally putting down Emmett. Considering the two of them on the lowest rungs of the gay-attractiveness ladder was an ingrained habit for him.
"He's gorgeous," Emmett said wistfully. "Gor-geous."
"Well, I don't think he's out of your league," Pitts9X6 murmured in Emmett's ear. "You are a big, burly top. Don't forget it." Emmett turned to look at his cyber-persona, the - well, the whatever-he-was. When Pitts9X6 appeared and talked to him, invisible to everyone else around him, Emmett was scared that he was developing a split personality. Wearing only faded cut-off shorts clinging to his slim hips and curvaceous butt, the buff, smooth-skinned, 6 foot two, 195 pounds, 4 percent body fat, uncut Pitts was everything Emmett wanted to be and never could.
Never, that is, until Pitts encouraged him.
Finishing his beer, Michael stood up. "Well, I'm hungry. Let's go get dinner."
Emmett asked, "Do you think I could take him?" He was speaking only to Pitts, but the others didn't realize it. Regardless of whether Pitts was a figment of Emmett's imagination or a sign of serious mental disturbance, Emmett trusted his judgment.
Mike laughed, "Not a chance." The humor wasn't intended to be mean, but everyone knew Emmett was a big Nellie bottom, a drama queen with a unique flair for interesting and frequently appalling clothes.
Pitts knew differently. "Of course you can. You're a tiger and he's the steak you've been waiting to devour. Go take a bite."
Ted was standing also, pushing his chair back in. He and Michael started to walk away, expecting Emmett to follow. They paused several steps away and Michael asked, "Emmett?"
Looking at Pitts' cheeky grin for encouragement, Emmett said, "You guys go ahead. I'm not hungry."
Michael and Ted glanced at each other and shrugged. "Whatever," Mike said. He looked down at the floor to see Brian dancing in a trio with a young guy with close-cut hair and an old guy with long hair. A really old guy, in Mike's estimation, since he was even older than the chiropractor Michael recently dumped. Brian was dancing with an ancient and Emmett was thinking he could take on a dude who could lift him with one hand? Placing a companionable arm around Ted's shoulders, he decided wisdom dictated escaping such oddness as they left Babylon.
Obi-Wan was laughing as he dragged Qui-Gon onto the floor. Reaching the middle, he turned to face his lover, instinctively finding the rhythm of the pulsing beat and sinuously moving with it.
[Do you know how to do this dance?] Qui-Gon asked, standing without moving, glancing around at the dancers. He spoke through the connection of their bond, unwilling to yell to be heard.
[I don't think there are choreographed steps. Just move with the music.]
Qui-Gon would have been happy to just stand there, staring at Obi-Wan. The Padawan was wearing a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans, his favorite Earth outfit. His eyes were closed dreamily, his thin braid swaying with his body, swinging back and forth. The Force had truly blessed Qui-Gon, to give him someone so special and so beautiful to train and love, and Qui-Gon could have watched endlessly as Obi-Wan enjoyed himself. But conscious of the necessity of blending in with this strange environment and he began dancing to the music, his movements powerful yet graceful as befitted a Jedi Master.
Then a young man stepped between the two, dancing with both of them. Dressed in all black, with brunette hair and hazel eyes, he exuded sexual energy from every pore. In normal circumstances, Qui-Gon would simply have ignored him, dismissed with the type of scathing look that a supreme diplomat could muster when necessary. Something - some trickle of the Force - made him hesitate. The young man's aura was clouded, as if the forces of both light and dark were fighting for possession of his soul and it was unclear which side was winning. Instead of dismissing him, Qui-Gon stepped slightly to the side and Obi-Wan did the same, the three dancing in a triangle.
A fourth person inserted himself into the triangle between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, forming a rectangle. He was younger than Qui-Gon would have guessed was the allowed age limit in a nightclub, a slim youth with blonde hair and pale blue hair. An expression that Qui-Gon couldn't read flashed across Brian's face. Irritation, lust? Or some combination of both? The Force awareness surged higher.
Whatever was happening involved both of these men and Qui-Gon decided to trust in the Force and see how this evening would end.
"Quick! Hide!" Major Samantha Carter grabbed the drinks menu and spread it wide, shielding them from the rest of the room.
Her best friend, Doctor Janet Fraiser, leaned forward over the table, also hiding her face behind the menu. "What's wrong?"
"The bar! Look at the bar!"
Janet peered out, trying to look nonchalant. Guys were everywhere. Hot guys with rippling muscles. Hunky guys in tight clothes. Buff go-go boys wearing silver underwear. Not-so-sexy guys trying desperately to look attractive. As a female doctor in the military, she was accustomed to being around large groups of men. During medical school, she strove to project authority and be noticed, needing to combat many patients' sexist inclination to regard her petiteness as an indication of her intelligence and turn to her taller, male colleagues. Until tonight, she never felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb. Being in this club made her so visible and yet so totally unseen. In the military, she was always careful of fraternization concerns and not accidentally creating awkward misunderstandings by being too friendly. But in Babylon, the men looked directly at her, as if wondering why she was here, and yet also straight past her, since she was female and therefore, not attractive.
Then Janet saw what Sam had seen and any nervousness at being in Babylon disappeared, chased out by sheer shock. Jack and Daniel were leaning on the bar, apparently waiting for drinks. They were talking softly while giving each other nuzzling kisses. Their hands were resting lightly on each other's waists, both men smiling and relaxed in a way not often allowed by the stress of working on the Stargate project.
"What are they doing here?" Sam hissed. As much as she enjoyed her teammates' company, this was a rare night out for her and Janet. She didn't want to make awkward explanations if their presence was discovered.
"I don’t know but if they're here - look at the dance floor. Right in the middle." Both women peered over the menu at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, dancing in a rectangle with two other men. They continued looking around until they spotted Teal'c, sitting at one of the tables by the floor, a man in the most flamboyant purple outfit standing next to him. As they watched, the other man tugged at Teal'c pulling him upright, pressing a kiss on his lips. They knew that only Teal'c's willingness got him out of the chair.
They jumped in their seats and turned to face a young black woman standing by their table.
"I'm sorry to bother you but - " She took a deep breath. "My car won't start. I came in with my friend Justin but he's busy." She grimaced, looking past them at the dance floor, and they followed her gaze to the men dancing with the Jedi. "I decided to leave but the car wouldn't start and the doorman let me back in but I know Justin. Nothing can interrupt him when he's trying to get Brian."
Sam patted the seat by her, instantly liking this friendly chatty teen, even as her maternal side wanted to scold her for being out so late on a school night. She risked putting down the drinks menu, turning away from the dancers. "Sit down."
"Thanks. I'm sorry, I just feel so weird being by myself in this place. I saw you guys and I thought you might help. What are you doing here?"
"A friend of mine brought us." Janet wasn't surprised Mark had disappeared. Looking up her old high school friend had been fun, but he'd been totally flummoxed when she suggested he could take her and her best friend to a gay bar, giving her sideways glances in the car and muttering darkly about the oddness of faghags. "Which one is Justin?"
"That one, right there," she said pointing to the blond. "He's wild about Brian. Brian was Justin's first lover," she whispered confidentially.
Sam and Janet looked at each other, the circuitry in their brains overloading at the image of the blond and the brunette now dancing with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. "We need to get out of here," Sam said.
"Agreed." If Mark was still anything like he'd been in high school, he'd ditched them already. He certainly wouldn't search too long if they caught a taxi back to the hotel.
"My car?" Daphne prompted.
"You'd be amazed at what Sam can do with mechanical equipment," Janet said. All three rose, the two Stargate members taking a last look around. Jack and Daniel had their hands full of beers and were leaving the bar area. The Jedi were still dancing and Teal'c was gone.
It looked like it was going to be an interesting evening at Babylon.
"We have got to get out of here," Sam said again, and they departed before they risked exposure in their insatiable desire to see what would happen.
Teal'c found the music unusual and too loud, but he was having a good time waiting at the table, watching the dancers. Sex was the only enjoyment allowed to the Jaffa guards by their Goa'uld masters and since coming to Earth, Teal'c had too little of it. He didn't understand why the American government prohibited one of the simplest and sure-fire ways to release tension after a battle, but he'd been reluctant to question. Saving his people was the main goal in his life and if he had to disperse energy through meditation for several years, he could make that sacrifice.
Jack hadn't explained things very explicitly when he conceded to Obi-Wan's request to visit a gay club but Teal'c understood from his muttered, "Whatever you do, keep your shirt on," that tonight was an exception. As long as no one saw the crisscrosses on his abdomen that hid the Goa'uld larvae, anything could happen tonight. And in Teal'c's mind, it was long past time.
A man stopped in front of Teal'c, wearing purple velvet pants, a purple and silver vest, and white silk shirt. "You are mine," he said aggressively, wrapping one hand in Teal'c's t-shirt and pulling.
Teal'c studied the man as he obeyed the demand, standing. He was a young man, older than Obi-Wan but younger than Daniel, with short brown hair and an expressive face, currently trying to look tough and to the battle-hardened Teal'c, not succeeding very well. His body was in decent shape, but it was from the softness of gyms, not from military training or fighting for his life. But Teal'c's expectation that good things would happen was occurring already and Teal'c wasn't in the mood to hang up on small issues.
The man kissed him, grinding his thin lips into Teal'c's fuller ones. The kiss was good but only a prelude of what Teal'c wanted. He let himself be dragged by his shirt into a back room filled with other men in varying stages and poses of sexual activity.
"My name is Emmett but tonight you can call me Master," Teal'c's captor said roughly, pushing on Teal'c's shoulders to force him to the ground.
The Jaffa almost resisted, disinterested in a game that smacked of the control exerted by the Goa'uld, but he remembered the way Obi-Wan could breathe, "Master," and even in a crowded Stargate cafeteria, Qui-Gon would visibly melt at the knees.
This game could be played different ways.
He lowered his head waiting instruction. Emmett thrust his hips forward. "Unzip me. Suck me."
Teal'c complied, freeing Emmett's cock from his trousers. It was so good, to have this taste in his mouth again, to have the feeling of a stiff hardness wanting release. Release that Teal'c would give only when he was ready.
And in that moment, as Teal'c's lips closed around his cock, Emmett realized he had made a major blunder. He couldn't top this man. This man was in control. He wasn't thrusting his cock into that warm mouth but rather being devoured alive by steaming heat. The lips were soft and supple, the tongue wet and flexible as they wrapped around his cock, tasted it, explored it, pulled it in, sucked hard until Emmett was ready to scream, then released him again, teasingly exploring the length, painfully coaxing Emmett back down from the approach of orgasm and then forcing him back up that hill.
As Teal'c took over, Emmett's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped against the wall, his muscles no longer able to support his body. Through blurry vision, he could see Pitts sadly shaking his head at him. "I'm sorry," he whimpered but the apology was false. Pleasure this good was worth experiencing.
Pitts kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Next time, tiger. I'll make a real man of you yet."
Teal'c freed Emmett's cock from his mouth, fondling his balls. "Come for me," he ordered in his serious voice, catching Emmett's cock in his mouth again as Emmett could only incoherently sigh, "uh huh," and come, caressing the soft skin of Teal'c's bald head.
Pitts was nowhere to be seen in the crowded room as Teal'c rose and turned Emmett to face the wall, pushing down his trousers and caressing his butt. Emmett spread his legs wider, wiggling his ass back into Teal'c's big hands. Damnit, if he was going to be a big Nellie bottom, he was going to do it right.
A finger slicked by saliva began to slide into him and Emmett froze.
"What is wrong?" Teal'c asked, sensing a tension beyond play.
Emmett bent, scrabbling in his trousers' pockets, handing Teal'c a condom and lube. With his velvet trousers down to his calves, Emmett still displayed his own sense of style as he twitched his bare hips while intoning, "You know what they say, better safe than sorry." He turned back to the wall and braced himself, his fingers splayed on the smooth surface.
Teal'c examined the articles for a moment, dimly remembering when Doctor Fraiser matter-of-factly instructed him on human sexual practices soon after his arrival. He dropped his trousers, preparing himself quickly, and Emmett more slowly, then sank his thick cock into Emmett's opening, his teeth clenching as he felt the resistance squeezing his cock until he breached the ring of muscle.
Emmett wailed softly as he felt himself fully invaded. He couldn't see the cock, but he could feel it opening him wide, big and bulky and long, just the way he liked it. The other man's hands closed around his own, bringing them behind him, until Emmett was supported by his chest and face pressing against the wall. The position made him feel even more dominated and controlled, unable to move or resist, but merely accept. Accept the wild pounding into his body, the huge cock that filled him full and threatened to split him apart. He loved being taken, claimed, possessed, losing all willpower and authority until he was fucked into a melting satiated puddle.
Teal'c's chest expanded with his breathing as a stress he hadn't even known existed freed itself. Denial and restraint had lasted too long. He missed this sensation, a warm human body under him, the physical contact and pleasure, the muscles of his entire body shaking with ecstasy and excitement as he plunged harder and harder, rocking on the balls of his feet.
A finger stroked down his arm and a young man murmured, "Hey, man, me next?"
"Wait your turn," Emmett snapped.
Teal'c grinned savagely as the building tension in his cock exploded and the first throes of orgasm shuddered through his body. He was very glad they had come to Babylon.
Carrying the beers, Jack and Daniel wandered around the dance floor looking vainly for Teal'c or the Jedi, trying to avoid being jostled by the crowd. Giving up on finding Teal'c, they finally settled in empty chairs. Jack asked, "Can you - you know - chat with Obi? See if he knows where Teal'c is? Where they are?"
"I'll try." Not being telepathic, Daniel couldn't contact Obi-Wan, but since their accidental bonding, he found that if he cleared his mind, Obi-Wan seemed to sense him and would touch his mind. The proper state of blankness was difficult to attain in the midst of the noise and spinning light from the disco ball, but Daniel concentrated and soon felt the Padawan's faint mental voice.
"Ah, Obi says Teal'c's busy."
"Yeah, busy. Obi says not to worry, he's keeping his shirt on. Umm…just his shirt."
Jack gaped. "You mean he - "
"Uh huh. Apparently so. And Obi and Qui just walked out the door."
"Yeah, with - umm, two guys. Qui says it's the will of the Force."
Jack took a long gulp of his beer. "Let me get this straight. In the time it took us to get beer, Teal'c's - uh, found a partner - and Obi and Qui found a foursome?"
"Yes, I think that would about sum it up," Daniel responded.
Tipping his head back, Jack drank half of his beer before wisecracking, "Jaffa and the Jedi - miracle workers of the galaxy and the gay clubs."
"I think it's kinda nice."
"Nice?" Jack said, his voice rising. Nice was hardly the word Jack would use to describe the current situation. He was a Colonel in the military, risking his career by his mere presence in this place, only to find his entire team AWOL.
"Well, Teal'c's busy, the Jedi are busy, Sam and Janet are busy. So it means we could sit here and drink five beers. Or we could go back to the hotel. And be together. Without interruptions." His voice dropped until Jack could barely hear him, but the intense expression in his eyes said more than his words could convey.
In Jack's mind, the contest between guzzling overpriced microbrews or being with the only man he ever loved had an easy victor. "Let's go."
For once in his life, Brian the stud, Brian the man in control, Brian the ad exec who made an extremely good living by manipulating people, was trying to figure out how the hell what happened had happened. He had planned to cut out the old guy and take the cute stud away, loosen that ridiculous ponytail, wrap the braid around his hand, and fuck him hard.
Instead, he was driving his jeep, the old guy was sitting next to him, and Justin and the stud were in the back seat, kissing. As he drove, Brian watched them in the rear view mirror and decided maybe things had turned perfectly. Their hair was both blond but the resemblance was superficial. The new guy's hair had a reddish tinge next to Justin's almost Scandinavian blond. Both were bottoms, and with neither taking the aggressive lead, their kisses were sweet, long, and passionate.
Brian shifted uncomfortably, getting hard, and a large hand curled over the front of his black jeans.
"I think we need to arrive at your place soon," the other man said.
"Just a few minutes."
"My name is Qui-Gon and he is Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan? What hell kinda names were those? Brian grunted, not really interested in exchanging chit-chat, but the hand stroking him was exquisitely talented and he felt obligated to answer, "I'm Brian and he's Justin."
Trying to explain Justin's role in Brian's life was beyond his ability. How could he describe that Justin was a one-night stand whose virginity he'd taken, who then turned almost into a stalker, became Brian's only repeat lover and now, surprisingly, a friend? "We've made out," Brian said briefly.
Affairs were arranged to Brian's satisfaction when they reached his bed, Qui-Gon hanging back, presumably to relish being a voyeur of the scene. A guy his age wasn't likely to be able to get it up as often as the other three. Qui-Gon sat on the chair by the bed slowly unbuttoning his shirt while Brian, Justin, and Obi-Wan ended up in the middle of bed together, frantically stripping off each other's clothes and flinging them to the floor.
Brian lay back, grabbing Justin and Obi-Wan, making them sprawl on top of him. He curled one hand around each of their heads, bringing their faces close to his. A kiss from Obi, a kiss from Justin, a kiss from Obi…they shared languorous and slow kisses while Obi-Wan and Justin explored his body, Obi-Wan with touches still tentative, Justin with bolder caresses. Justin knew what Brian liked and wasn't slow to share his knowledge, guiding Obi-Wan's hands across Brian's body with murmured instructions when his lips were free, "here…there…no, harder…yeah, tickle him…" Obi-Wan followed his lead until Brian was squirming with pleasure and realizing he needed to establish order. The difference between being serviced and being a plaything was enormous.
Breaking away, he shoved at Justin, pushing him to sit with his back against the headboard. He stroked his fingers through Obi-Wan's short hair, encouraging him to suck Justin's cock.
With his lips hesitating a mere inch from Justin's slim cock, Obi-Wan asked [Master?]
[Do you want me to do this?] Obi-Wan looked sideways at his Master, now naked and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Qui-Gon cupped his fist around his erect cock. [If you want to.]
[Master.] With one word, Obi-Wan insisted Qui-Gon respond honestly.
[It is - sexier - than I expected, to see you with another man,] Qui-Gon confessed.
Seeing the hesitation but not hearing the conversation, Brian whispered, "His cum is so good. Almost sweet. Suck him and find out. Suck him."
Obi-Wan opened his lips, letting the head of Justin's cock slip into his mouth. Not as big as Qui-Gon's, but long and slim like Justin himself, and as Brian promised, somehow sweet in flavor. Justin's hand twisted in Obi-Wan's braid, unconsciously tugging in rhythm to Obi-Wan's sucking.
Brian's cock felt so hard he could drill nails as Obi-Wan went down on Justin, seeing the pleasure cover Justin's face as his cock was consumed. The two were so beautiful together. Dressed, they might appear similar, both pale and slim. Naked, Justin was still slightly gangly in his youth, while Obi-Wan revealed the lean whipcord muscles of a martial artist. Impatience seized him and his motions were swift and efficient as he readied Obi-Wan, feeling the muscles contract around his fingers and gradually relax under his ministrations. The younger man was welcoming and open, adjusting his body to position himself for Brian's claiming, Obi-Wan's knees on the bed between Justin's spread legs, his forearms on the pillow on each side of Justin's hips, bracing himself.
Then Brian was thrusting into Obi-Wan, his forearms on top of Obi-Wan's, their hands clasping, his weight divided between his knees and the support of Obi-Wan's supple back. Having finally reached where he wanted to be since he saw Obi-Wan, he slowed down. He made it last because it was just too damn good to rush, watching Justin's face as Obi-Wan sucked him dry, hearing the long moans drawn from Obi-Wan's throat made even with his mouth full, feeling the pressure of Obi-Wan's ass clenching around his cock, drawing him in and clinging to his cock, squeezing him in time to Justin's breathy gasps. Brian's thrusts were deep but measured, making every inch count.
"Full of cock," Brian muttered, "don't you feel full of cock?"
[I want yours too, Master. Want to feel your touch. Need it. Need you.]
Obi-Wan's plea was rewarded by Qui-Gon's powerful hand curling around his cock, finding the rhythm of Brian's thrusts and Obi-Wan's sucking, stroking him to the tune of hoarse breathing, muttered curses, and flesh slapping flesh. Obi-Wan was drowning in pleasure, completely surrounded by male flesh. Possessed and used. Fucked but cherished. Filled but still empty, needing more and yet more, until the taste of Justin's come overflowed his mouth, Brian's come shot hard into his body, and Qui-Gon's hand drained the come from his cock.
Jack and Daniel maintained a careful distance between their bodies as they walked through the hotel lobby, talking casually of the archaeological conference Daniel would attend while the rest went through training. Daniel didn't expect to learn much from the conference. After all, since his colleagues didn't share his knowledge that Earth civilization had been influenced by the alien Goa'uld, their theories were bound to be flawed. But after Shau'ri's death, Daniel had started to look ahead to a time when he might leave the Stargate Project and had begun reconnecting with his academic peers.
On those days when he wearied of being chased and fired upon by some unique form of weaponry, Daniel acknowledged it was only Jack keeping him tied to the project. Jack and their love.
The door to the hotel room shut behind them and Daniel was suddenly unaccountably nervous. Free time together away from the base was so rare, he hardly knew where to begin. Should they chat? Have a drink? Or just strip and leap into bed? Then Jack pulled him into his arms and Daniel's doubts vanished in the fire of his kiss.
Jack didn't know what to say to Daniel. Small talk seemed inane, wisecracking inappropriate, and Daniel had already forced more relationship talk from Jack than made him comfortable. Jack didn't enjoy uncertainty - he liked action. So he took control of the evening with true command style.
Holding Daniel was a rare but wondrous feeling for Jack. Other than a brief experiment in college, his previous relationships were all with women, women who were shorter and smaller than him, and felt fragile in his arms. Daniel was approximately his height and weight. He didn't have to bend his neck to kiss him. Their bodies met squarely, chest pressed to chest, growing erections rubbing on each other, the length of their legs touching.
They didn't kiss long before Jack pushed Daniel away. The scientist was confused by the abrupt action, his blue eyes blinking behind his glasses. Jack settled into the 'at ease' posture, his hands behind his back, feet spread slightly apart. "Strip, soldier," he commanded.
Daniel flashed a grin for a second then composed his face into the military blankness drilled into him during his tenure at Stargate. Moving slowly, he undid the small buttons on the front of his long-sleeved blue shirt, then the buttons on the sleeves, pulling the ends out of his waist and dropping the shirt to the floor. The steadiness in Jack's gaze, the unwavering attention to his every action, those hazel eyes almost visibly caressing his bare chest, brought the blood rushing to his cock.
"Continue, soldier," Jack barked as Daniel paused.
The scientist obeyed, unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and undoing his zipper. He left his clothes like that, his jeans hanging open to display the top front of his underwear as he kicked off his loafers. One smooth motion and his jeans and underwear were on the floor, crumpled into a bunch, leaving him standing in only socks, his cock pointing out toward Jack.
"Complete your job, soldier."
His momentary smirk couldn't be restrained. Jack might pretend to be a tough guy, but he was definitely affected by this little scene, the front of his jeans almost bursting with his own erection. Daniel pulled off his socks then slowly turned in a circle to prove that his task was completed. "Job all done, sir!" he snapped.
Taking Jack by surprise, Daniel dropped to his knees, unzipped Jack's jeans, and freed his cock before the Colonel could protest. He knew what he wanted, and he wanted it now. His first time had been all nervousness and insecurity, needing instruction, wondering how to avoid grazing his teeth on the sensitive flesh. But now he loved giving head, devouring Jack, driving the confident soldier to a whimpering, shuddering bundle of flesh.
"This is out of line, soldier," Jack said, but his tone had lost its force and his hands were patting Daniel's head. He gently lifted Daniel's glasses off his face and tossed them onto the nightstand.
Daniel didn't argue, humming in agreement. The vibrations bounced off Jack's cock, making him gasp and clench Daniel's head. Daniel's hands closed over the back of Jack's thighs, the faded jeans material soft under his palms, Jack's long muscles firm and tight. Unable to form another coherent sentence, Jack thrust and thrust, burying himself in Daniel's mouth, his drives met by heat and harder suction, as Daniel took every inch and begged for more with his moans.
Jack could only hold on for the ride. Daniel may have turned the curve on him, but Jack loved every minute of it. Loved the way Danny loved him, the way Danny insisted on having what he wanted. No one had ever taken him with such energetic vigor and devotion to his pleasure as Danny. His body felt ripped apart, as if every nerve with alive with the mind-blowing sensations, until he was gasping with ecstasy, his body shaking as Danny swallowed his come.
The Colonel was physically drained as the scientist caught him in his arms, holding Jack while he regained his breath. "That wasn't the way it was supposed to go," Jack muttered without regret.
"That's okay," Daniel whispered, pulling Jack with him toward the bed, "when we play scientist, the test subject can misbehave."
They were both laughing as they fell onto the bed, Danny helping Jack strip off the rest of his clothes. There was a lot of evening left before everyone returned from Babylon.
Qui-Gon curled his fingers around Justin's arm. "My turn now, I believe."
Though tempted to crawl into Qui-Gon's lap and start another threesome - a foursome, this time? - by kissing him, Obi-Wan stayed where he was, lying on the far side of the bed. Through their bond, he had seen Qui-Gon's heart and soul. His Master might find it unexpectedly erotic to see other men loving Obi-Wan but he had no interest in having sex with others. Qui-Gon was generous to a fault with his heart and his care for defenseless lifeforms, but his passion was saved for Obi-Wan. Something besides desire was motivating Qui-Gon.
Justin looked nervously at Qui-Gon but began scooting toward him until stopped by Brian's hand closing around his other arm.
"Do you want this?"
"Do I want what?"
"Do you want to be fucked a man older than your father?"
Justin's eyelashes shuttered his eyes. "It's just sex, isn't it? He's got a great body."
Brian tone was impatient. "Yes, it's just sex. It's also your body. Don't do it if you won't enjoy it."
Through his lowered lashes, Justin tried to read the message in Brian's obvious irritation. What did Brian want him to do? Didn't he know Justin only really wanted to be fucked by him? Brian wouldn't want to hear that truth. Brian didn't do boyfriends or committed relationships. But despite his flaws, Brian was honest and didn't tolerate bullshit. If he was asking the question, he would want the truth, regardless of any detrimental impact on tonight's activities. "No," Justin said starkly. "I don't want him to fuck me."
"Fine. Play time's over," Brian said to Qui-Gon.
"I'll be satisfied with you," Qui-Gon replied, releasing Justin and cupping Brian's face with one hand.
Brian batted it away. "No one fucks me."
Qui-Gon rose off the bed, the firm springs barely dipping with the movement. "This hardly seems fair," he said. His tone was mild but his height and rampant erection were imposing.
"No one ever said life was fair," Brian snarled without a trace of sympathy. "You must be old enough to remember Kennedy."
[Kennedy?] Qui-Gon asked Obi-Wan, glaring at Brian with his hands on his hips.
[An American president. He said life wasn't fair. He was later assassinated.] While speaking mentally, Obi-Wan rose to his feet on the bed and walked across it, stepping between Brian and Justin's naked legs, stopping on the edge. "Allow me to relieve that," he murmured, one hand clasping Qui-Gon's cock and stroking.
[Indeed, not fair.] Qui-Gon said in response to Obi-Wan's information. "My love," he said aloud, his hands closing on Obi-Wan's hips. "I need you."
"Anything you desire. Always," Obi-Wan avowed. Seamlessly, Qui-Gon's hands on his hips pulled Obi-Wan to him while Obi-Wan leaned back and wrapped his legs around Qui-Gon's hips, digging his heels into Qui-Gon's upper thighs. Demonstrating an acrobatic ease, Obi-Wan was soon suspended in mid-air, his back parallel to the bed, his hands holding onto Qui-Gon's wrists for balance. Already loosened by Brian, he was easily impaled on Qui-Gon's cock. A cushion of Force supported him, but the position also required his and Qui-Gon's strength to maintain, making their muscles contract with the strain.
Justin melted back into Brian's arms, wiggling his ass so Brian's cock slipped into the crevice as Brian's wrapped his fingers against Justin's cock. He didn't want to be fucked by Qui-Gon, but he couldn't help getting aroused by watching the two handsome strangers together. Qui-Gon's powerful chest heaved as he struggled for breath, his long silvered hair gently brushing back and forth on his shoulders as he rocked. Sweat gleamed on his forehead, catching loose tendrils and plastering them to his skin. His long, muscular legs were slightly parted and bent to give him leverage and balance, the muscles rippling with his effort.
Obi-Wan's body was covered with his own sweat, as well as Justin and Brian's. The muscles of his abdomen were sharply defined as he clenched them. The thin braid hung down to touch the sheets, flicking back and forth with their rocking. He was erect again from the stimulation of Qui-Gon's cock raking against his prostrate. But even better than the sex was the emotion in Qui-Gon's eyes, the sapphire blue shining with love for his Padawan as their minds merged, each experiencing the other's thoughts and feelings, the demanding physical ache of their approaching orgasm and the beauty of their souls merging as completely as their bodies were joined.
Hoarse masculine voices panted and then groaned as they both reached the pinnacle in unison, Qui-Gon's come filling Obi-Wan while Obi-Wan splashed onto his own torso. Obi-Wan straightened from his perilous position to hug Qui-Gon. The Master's knees gave out, sinking to the bed.
Justin was hard in Brian's hand and wondering if he had made the wrong decision when Brian said, "You don't wear condoms."
Obi-Wan ignored Brian, nuzzling at Qui-Gon's shoulders, but Qui-Gon responded, "No, not when we're together."
"Thanks for the show." Brian flung them clean cloths from the stack kept discreetly by his bed. "Now get out."
[Yes, let us leave, Obi-Wan. I think we've proved enough.] They separated and cleaned off. Having undressed by himself, Qui-Gon had piled his clothes in one place. Obi-Wan's were spread around the floor and it took time to find them in the mess.
Justin craned his head back to look at Brian, but Brian's expression was closed and impossible to read. Taking the wise option of silence, Justin kept his mouth shut and just continued to watch as the two got ready to leave. Brian's arms were still around him, which Justin considered a good sign.
Qui-Gon sat on the bed by Brian, squeezing his shoulder. He leaned forward for a gentle kiss, before saying softly, "You should consider why it disturbs you to see someone else make love to Justin. Why you need to protect him."
"Don't try to read my mind, old man. You don't know me."
"Do you even know yourself?" Qui-Gon stood, not expecting an answer. "Thank you for the evening." He draped an arm around Obi-Wan and they left, walking out without further good-byes.
"That was wild," Justin said as the door slid shut behind him.
"It excited you."
Now that the others were gone, Justin could feel Brian relax, the tense muscles of his body unwind, the tone in his voice more teasing and amused. "Yeah." His slim fingers closing around Brian's hand on his cock, he asked, "Are you going to do something about it?"
"No." Justin flinched, confused, even more perplexed as Brian pulled at him, maneuvering Justin to turn around and sit on his lap. "I'm going to let you do something about it."
Brian's fingers were entering his body, stretching him, and Justin grinned. "So why did you kick them out? Because they didn't use condoms?"
"That and the fact they were military."
Justin was squirming on Brian's fingers, trying to force them deeper. He liked this part of it, even if Brian didn't touch his prostrate. Brian was always so careful of him, making sure the pain would be minimal. He liked imagining that Brian was especially considerate of him compared to his other lovers. "How did you know they were military? Those haircuts weren't regulation. My cousin's in the Marines. You should see his hairstyle. Almost bald, his hair's shaved so short."
Silly babbling was part of Justin's charm, but Brian wasn't interested in conversation. "So foreign military. Special terrorist group. Who cares. Their bodies, the way they moved. It was wrong. Now are we going to talk all night or fuck?"
"Fuck," Justin answered promptly, and groped for the box of condoms, ripping one out of the package and unrolling it on Brian's cock. With Brian's guidance, he lowered his body onto Brian's cock.
He could never decide which way he most liked to be fucked by Brian. He had thought the first way was the best, with his legs on Brian's shoulders. Bringing his ankles to his ears allowed them to kiss and he could watch Brian's face as the pleasure swept through him. Then Brian placed him on his hands and knees and that was even better, letting Brian pound him harder and deeper. But this way - oh god, this way he felt almost in control, a pleasure boy servicing his master, the muscles of his thighs and calves working to raise him up and down, setting a tempo that his demanding owner could only accept and enjoy.
The control was only illusory, he knew. Though slim, Brian was taller, bigger and stronger than Justin. He could take charge whenever he wanted, those powerful hands on his hips forcing Justin to the speed he desired. Then almost as if Brian was reading his mind, his hands moved from Justin's hips to his nipples, squeezing them and playing with the gold circlet piercing the right nipple, signaling that he was content with Justin's lead.
Their kisses were hot and wet, lips tasting, separating, moving to explore each other's face, throat, shoulders, all the while Justin continued to plunge up and down. Justin's hands roamed over the sculpted muscles of Brian's chest, delighting in the satiny texture of his skin. One of Brian's hands stayed on Justin's nipple ring, the tugging creating an echo of pleasure that reverberated through Justin's body, while Brian's other hand curved over one ass cheek, digging into the firm flesh. The heat burned between them, a fire begun with their first night that only seemed to flame brighter with time.
As Justin shuddered with his orgasm, he could only hope the fire would consume them both together forever.
Reaching the street, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stopped on the sidewalk. "And that was - ?" Obi-Wan asked, his words trailing off.
"A young man who needs someone to keep the darkness at bay. His demons are fierce."
"And you think Justin will be the one?"
"If Brian will face his own emotions, yes. I fear it will be a long road for him. But he's started on the journey."
"You have quite a unique way of making a point, Master."
Abruptly concerned, Qui-Gon asked, "You enjoyed it, didn't you?"
"You could tell I did, Master." Obi-Wan's smile was infectious, making Qui-Gon laugh and hug him.
Qui-Gon dismissed Brian from the forefront of his thoughts. He could only hope that the other man would consider his words. For now, he could take this special opportunity to concentrate on his Padawan. "There's still much of the evening left. What would you like to do?"
"We only got to dance one song," Obi-Wan said wistfully.
"Then let us return to Babylon."
Obi-Wan grinned and started walking but was halted by Qui-Gon's hand on his arm. He looked inquisitively as his Master put his left hand on Obi-Wan's waist and clasped his right hand in Obi-Wan's left. Understanding, Obi-Wan rested his free hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder. Humming a tune, Qui-Gon began waltzing Obi-Wan down the sidewalk.
Back to Babylon.
~ finis ~