Daniel pushed Jack against the door, tongue dipping into Jack's gaping mouth. His hands slipped up Jack's shoulders, pushing the military-issue jacket off. Black fabric fisted in Daniel's hands; the fabric groaned as it was tugged in two directions. Jack could sympathize.
"Daniel." Jack fought against him, getting him at arm's distance. "What the hell is—" His mouth dried up when he saw the hunger in Daniel's eyes, desperate, possessed. It didn't take a Ph.D. to figure out something was wrong with Daniel, and it had to be a pretty big something for Daniel to be all over Jack with the security cameras blinking silently in the background. Jack resisted the urge to look at the one just over Daniel's shoulder.
"Daniel, you need to go to the infirmary. Something's wrong, something's . . . not . . . right." Daniel's hands pressed against Jack's crotch, quickly encouraging his penis to full hardness. Jack released a stuttered breath: not helping.
"Daniel, please. The SFs do not need to see this."
Daniel latched on to Jack's neck, sucking and biting, sure to leave a mark. "Come on, Jack, haven't you always wanted someone to watch?"
Jack pulled back, shocked that Daniel even knew that.
"Daniel, I. . . ." Jack's career flashed over his mind, the court martial, the dishonorable discharge, the jail time. He looked in Daniel's eyes and saw something more than the hunger, something not-wrong, something. . . . Daniel's mouth twitched, giving him away entirely. With that one moment Jack knew. It was that dark, wicked twitch of smile that killed him every time. It was complicit, deceiving, and told Jack, "Fraiser's in on it."
Jack threw himself against Daniel, claiming Daniel's mouth with lips and tongue, breathing into Daniel as Daniel breathed into him. Daniel pushed again, pressing Jack against the wall, grinding into him. Jack grabbed Daniel's ass, keeping them pressed tightly together.
He broke off, giving Daniel three short kisses as he pulled himself together long enough to open Daniel's pants.
"Good idea," Daniel gasped.
"Got an even better one," Jack said before slipping to his knees. He pulled Daniel's pants down, pushing up the shirt to expose Daniel's penis to the cool office air. He breathed on the head, watching it twitch, flicking up towards Jack's waiting mouth. Jack licked chapped lips, accidentally brushing the slit, spreading pre-come on his mouth. He closed his eyes, Daniel's smell and taste overwhelming him.
Daniel's fingers pushed through Jack's short hair and Jack took the hint, taking Daniel in his mouth, warming the length with his breath and spit. He sucked gently, pulling off slowly, listening to Daniel's intake of air. He slid back down and then picked up a steady pace, not wanting to linger too much; no telling when someone might come pounding on Dr. Jackson's door having seen the footage.
God, he hoped someone was watching.
He fumbled his belt open, slowing his pace slightly, and reached inside his pants, grabbing his own penis. He tried to match pace with his mouth, but the angle was awkward, so he hit every second stroke with a rough twist, enough to keep up with Daniel.
Daniel's hips twitched—he was close. Jack reached behind Daniel, fingers fumbling until he found Daniel's asshole. He slipped in his thumb, pressing the pad against the interior ring. The tight squeezing translated to his dick and his mouth opened in a pant. It didn't matter though, Daniel's hands landed against the door with two solid thunks, his hips pushed once, and then his cock spasmed, come shooting into Jack's mouth and onto his face. Jack tugged twice more, licking come off his lips, and then orgasmed quietly into his hand, sagging back against the door.
Daniel panted over him, his sharp breaths louder in the enclosed space. "Some alien virus, huh?"
"Oh yeah," Jack agreed, feeling his heart hammer. "Some fucking alien virus."
Daniel chuckled, crouching next to Jack. He kissed Jack, resting their foreheads together. "You ready to be checked out by Janet?" he whispered.
Jack grinned, looking over to Daniel's desk, imagining Daniel bent over it, pants around his ankles. "Maybe not yet."