“God, I miss going offworld.”
Daniel hears that one little sentence over and over again like a mantra as he and Teal’c drag the bodies of Ares’s Jaffa into a pile for burial. He keeps coming back to that look on Jack’s face, that moment of utter glee when Garan lowered her gun, while he helps the villagers set the marketplace to rights. Daniel has known for some time that Jack misses going offworld; after all, he says he does, frequently. Loudly. But Jack always makes these comments in the briefing room after Sam has shown him some shiny, new technology or Teal’c has recounted in his inimitable and economical way their latest prison break. He looks briefly wistful and then moves on. He never says anything when they’re all out eating steak at O’Malley’s or when he’s spooned up behind Daniel in bed. So, Daniel knows that Jack wishes he was going through the Gate with them, but he didn’t realize quite what Jack was missing and how much until today.
Lack of control, being stuck on the Earth side of the Gate instead of being physically present and giving everything to bring all his people home, forgoing the adrenaline rush of their constant brushes with death—Daniel had thought Jack mostly regretted these changes in his life since taking Command of the SG-1. Watching Jack land the Ancient ship and walk down the loading ramp with Sam, their shoulders bumping every few steps, Daniel realizes that what Jack misses most about going offworld isn’t saving the world; it’s saving the world with his team.
Jack strolls over to Daniel looking very pleased with himself. “Man, I love those Ancient weapons,” he says. “We have got to get some more of those.”
Daniel smiles; Jack hasn’t looked this uncomplicatedly happy in a long time. “King Arkhan wants to throw a feast in honor of our victory. Says he won’t take no for an answer.”
Maybourne is across the courtyard helping some villagers sort through an overturned wagon of guangos for the unspoiled fruit. His leather crown sits askew on his head, the copper inserts gleaming in the waning light. Jack sighs and then rolls his eyes almost fondly. “Yeah, okay. Feast it is.”
When King Arkhan throws a feast, the man throws a feast. Before long, Daniel is drunk, full, and happy. He’s even happier when Jack decides they’re spending the night.
“It wouldn’t do for General O’Neill to stumble out of the Gate and trip over Siler,” Sam says, a bright laugh lurking underneath her words.
“Something like that,” Jack says and looks at Daniel, the briefest instant of naked longing on his face before he schools it into the exasperated yet amused expression he so often wears. A fierce rush of desire twists deep in Daniel’s belly. He’s starting to realize there’s another part of going offworld that Jack has apparently missed.
Midway through the feast, Teal’c has already claimed a small room for himself; Daniel can see the flickering light of the candles that accompany his kelno’reem through his open window across the courtyard. Sam is throwing knives with Garan next to the bonfire and showing no signs of stopping any time soon. Jack bumps Daniel’s knee with his own. “You ready?”
Daniel is definitely ready.
Jack gives him a hand up, and Maybourne smirks at them through a gaggle of his wives. “I hope you find your accommodations satisfactory,” Maybourne calls to them as they leave. Jack just waves a hand at Maybourne without even turning around.
Daniel says, “So I guess that cat’s out of the bag.”
“Maybourne’s a pretty perceptive bastard when he wants to be.”
Daniel sneaks a look back over his shoulder. One of Maybourne’s wives is feeding him a juicy guango, but all Maybourne’s attention is focused on tracking Jack and Daniel as they leave. “So,” Daniel says, “you and Maybourne ever?” Jack shoots him a look of such pure disgust that Daniel can’t do anything but laugh and throw up his hands in placation. “Right. Sorry. Forget I asked.”
“I’ll have to if this night is going to end the way I planned,” Jack grumbles.
Maybourne has put them up on the outskirts of the village in adjoining rooms full of luxurious fabrics, lit candles, and spicy smelling flowers. Daniel wonders if this is where Maybourne entertains his wives and then quickly squashes that line of thinking.
Jack says, “I missed this,” and gently pushes Daniel down on a bed of silky furs and soft, airy knits.
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much.”
Jack just shrugs and pulls Daniel’s shirt over his head. They kiss for what seems like hours, Jack’s teeth nipping at Daniel’s bottom lip, his hands resting on Daniel’s hipbones. Daniel remembers being surprised in the beginning by how much Jack loves kissing—deep, lazy kisses that slowly turn frantic as the tension builds between them.
Jack also loves blowjobs that last forever, bringing Daniel as close as he can to the brink before backing off. Daniel has learned not to be impatient, learned to ride that almost painful crest of pleasure before he breaks into a thousand shuddering pieces underneath’s Jack’s strong hands, his warm and pliant mouth.
Sometimes Daniel blows Jack in return or jerks him off with slow and steady strokes while Jack moans and clutches fistfuls of the sheets. Tonight, Daniel takes the lid of a jar of oil whose purpose cannot be mistaken since the lid is decorated with an orgy scene—men and women, men and men, women and women, all fucking, all writhing together. Daniel coats one hand with slippery oil and slowly pushes his fingers into himself, making a show of it for Jack, spreading his legs wide. When Daniel finally reaches for his own cock, Jack knocks his hand away and rolls him over, pulls him up on his knees and pushes inside. Daniel gets lost in the clench of muscles, the slide of sweat slick skin, Jack’s mouth moving wetly across his shoulders. Jack moves relentlessly inside him until Daniel comes again and then finishes himself off with a few rapid strokes. Jack cleans them both up and nestles into Daniel’s side.
“You know,” Daniel says, stroking languidly down Jack’s back, “We should probably check in every few months with Maybourne just to make sure King Arkhan hasn’t overstepped his bounds, and that seems like the kind of mission that you should oversee personally. Just to be sure.”
Jack snuggles in closer, his close cropped hair brushing Daniel’s chin. “Sounds like a plan to me.”