"Do you have a thing for guns?"
Daniel blinked, shaking the image of Jack cleaning his pistol. "Pardon?"
"You're staring," he drawled. He jumped off the mule, the creases easily falling out of his tan trousers. "Like some blank-eyed . . . staring thing."
"Clever." Daniel tilted his head, turning to the stairs. He needed to stop spacing, stop staring at the Captain. It was the third time he'd been caught looking. Jack was going to get suspicious—eventually even he could catch on.
Jack caught Daniel's arm, his hand hot on bare skin. "Don't think you were checking out my 'clever.'"
Daniel scoffed, "Checking you out? Hardly."
"I know that look when I see it." Since when had Jack stepped so close? Daniel breathed his air; sweet smelling actually, like oranges. He squared his jaw, huffing a breath to dispel the scent.
"And what look is that?"
Jack grinned before he spoke, that self-satisfied smirk that could melt butter on snowy St. Albans. His lips softened, forming slowly around each word, caressing the language. It was so easy to get lost in those lips.
Jack squeezed his arm. "Daniel?"
Jack grinned. "I said 'that look.'" He put an arm around Daniel's back, the thin silk of Daniel's tunic doing nothing to disguise the shape of Jack's hand. "How about you stop playing hard to get?"
Daniel squared his shoulders, but leaned into Jack's embrace. "How about you stop playing hard to get?"
Jack's smile softened and he mumbled, "Okay," before his mouth connected with Daniel's.
They stumbled into Daniel's shuttle, stripping each other, kissing new flesh as they went. Daniel's knees hit the floor, a position he was quite familiar with from his duties as a Companion, but the want he felt now was totally different.
Daniel's tongue flicked over Jack's penis, hands positioning Jack's hips. He skipped the tease and took Jack quickly, filling his mouth with cock, inhaling the strong scent of arousal, his nose pressed against coarse curls. Jack's fingers fisted in his hair, rougher than Daniel had ever allowed himself to be treated.
"Daniel," Jack gasped.
Daniel pulled back, sucking all the way. He circled the penis with his tongue until he reached the head, and then went back down the same way.
"Don't . . . finish . . . like this," Jack panted. His hand moved, like he might be reaching to move Daniel, but Daniel sucked harder and Jack's hand landed on Daniel's shoulder, his hips thrusting.
"Please," he whispered.
Daniel pulled off, scattering kisses over Jack's thighs and hips.
He pushed Jack back on the bed, snagging a bottle of lubricant from a table. No time for Companion traditions, tea ceremonies, or other preamble. He inserted a slick finger, feeling Jack's muscles resist. Daniel kissed Jack's belly, softly murmuring as he added another finger, gentling Jack open.
"Daniel," Jack moaned.
Daniel withdrew his fingers, kneeling in between Jack's legs. He rolled on a condom, kissed Jack's belly one last time, and then lifted, aligned, and pushed.
They groaned in unison.
Daniel's head was swimming. It wasn't his first time, it hadn't even been weeks since the last time, this wasn't physically different than any other time, except: it was him and Jack, finally.
Daniel moved, small motions that pulled on his cock and made Jack wince. He angled, finding Jack's prostate, and Jack's moans changed dramatically.
"Jack," he sighed, thrusting his hips, picking a quick rhythm that was sure to undo them both.
Jack's hands knotted in the bed sheets. The sheets pulled from carefully tucked corners, leaving the mattress naked.
Jack's orgasm was messy, come painting his chest. Daniel pumped a few more times, then groaned unprofessionally as he came. He collapsed on Jack, allowing himself to slip from Jack's body. An arm encircled his shoulders; a hand patted his hair.
Jack sleepily said, "No wonder you're a professional."
Daniel shot up, sweeping a sheet over his lap. "Ass," he hissed.
Jack blinked, shaking off the lust-addled haze. "What?" He sat up, not bothering to cover himself or wipe away the come.
Daniel glared. "Are you kidding?"
"Daniel, come on." Jack stroked Daniel's arm, and with some effort and Daniel's waning resolve, pulled Daniel back to bed. Daniel settled, allowing Jack to arrange him, but he stayed stiff, unable to forget that to Jack—despite what he seemed to feel—Daniel was still just a whore.