Note: This was written for a flashfic challenge on Pepeís Place list - I actually came up with the challenge, so I thought Iíd better write a story J . The challenge was to write a story about Jack and Daniel kissing, and this was my first idea - more to come, I think, as itís an addictive thought.
Note2: An amuse bouche is pronounced "ah-mooze boosh". The literal translation is "to amuse the mouth". In French restaurants it is the name of the little course that is served before the appetizer and is meant to stimulate the appetite.
The warm fire crackled and popped merrily in the ancient field stone fireplace. Outside the wind howled and the snow beat against the thick outer logs of the cabin. Daniel yawned and stretched, scratching his belly lightly as he stood and wandered over to the window where Jack stood staring pensively out into a wall of white. He glared halfheartedly at the outside world, hoping its heat would somehow cause the weather to change and become the pleasant early November weather heíd promised just before theyíd left Colorado Springs for Minnesota.
"Jack, itís not your fault. Youíre not Mother Nature, and the touchstone is still on PX7-941, so Iím afraid you canít really do anything about this," Daniel teased, coming to stand next to Jack, nudging their shoulders together playfully.
Jack heaved a dejected sigh. "I had it planned, Daniel. I was going show you around, take you fishing on my lake, and see the sights. Itís the first time Iíve managed to get you up here, and I wanted it to be..." Jack trailed off, coloring slightly and scrubbing his neck as he realized just how Ďgirlieí he sounded. So not cool.
"You heard the weather guy, Jack; itíll clear up in forty-eight hours, and then you can show me around for the next four days. We have a week, remember? Plenty of time for me to find out that there are no fish in your lake," Daniel intoned, nudging again at Jack, who finally broke down and nudged him back.
"Itís not about how many you catch, Daniel; itís what you do with your pole," Jack snickered dirtily. "Although considering how you always seem to attract weird alien life forms to you without even trying, you may just be able to charm the fish right out of the water without ever putting your hand on your rod."
"Ja-ack," the archeologist groaned with a long-suffering sigh as his fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose in mild exasperation. His best friend sometimes had the mentality of... of... God help Daniel, of a Simpsonsí cartoon character, and Daniel couldnít get enough, so it seemed. So what did that say about him?
The insistent snapping of fingers right in front of his eyes drew Daniel back from his inner thoughts and made him swat irritably at the offending digits as he backed up a step.
"Sometimes youíre just too damned easy to bait," Jack replied with an easy chuckle, slinging his arm around Danielís shoulder. "So what are we going to do until the snow stops? And donít say read, or I swear, Jackson, the books are going in the fire!"
"You wouldnít!" Daniel gasped in outraged horror. "God, Jack, could you be any more of a pain in my ass?" Watching the finger go up and Jackís mouth open, Daniel was horrified to realized what an opening heíd left for the old bastard and quickly clamped a hand over Jackís mouth to forestall the inevitable filth. "Donít even go there," he warned with a growl.
"Iím just sayiní,"
Sniggering, Jack wandered over to the shelves where he had yearsí worth of rainy day games stored from when Charlie had been alive. Running his fingers over a very old and dusty Monopoly box, he took a few seconds to indulge in his past happiness before turning back to his present with a deck of cards in his hand. "Time for you to learn the fine tradition of poker, Danny."
Rolling his eyes, Daniel didnít bother to enlighten Jack that he actually knew how to play poker. All those years at dig sites, in Egypt and elsewhere, left a lot of free time after the sun went down, and despite what Jack seemed to think, he didnít always reach for a book right away. In fact, Daniel was actually quite good at the game if truth be told. But if it kept Jack quiet... "So got any pennies in a jar?"
"Pennies? Pennies will never teach you the real stakes of poker. Nope, weíre going to play for something much more valuable." Jackís smile became predatory. "Clothes."
"Do not start with me, OíNeill, or I will hurt you."
"Sweet! You promise? I always did like a good spanking."
"ARGH! Just... just.... Shut up and deal!"
"HA! A straight, Jackson, read íem and weep. I want the shirt next," Jack crowed while inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. He was down to his pants and boxers, Daniel having won everything else, including the shoes. Who the hell would have believed that touchy-feely Dr. Daniel Jackson, the man whose face gave away a thousand battle plans, would be such a pro at poker?
"Not so fast, OíNeill," Daniel smirked evilly, taking great pleasure in laying down his own hand. "Flush, which means I get your pants. Now hand íem over," Daniel continued, making a Ďgimmeí motion with his hand.
"For cryiní out loud!" Jack howled in disbelief even as he stood and stripped out of his jeans. "Where the hell did you learn how to be such a damned card shark?"
"I never kiss and tell, Jack," Daniel replied with a mysterious smile.
"Oh, now that is beyond unfair, Daniel!"
"Sucks to be you, doesnít it?" the archeologist replied, his hands coming up to rest behind his head. A smug look of victory painted his features as he relaxed back into the beat up old recliner heíd claimed when the game had started.
Watching his little shit of a friend lord it over him so blatantly caused something to snap in Jack, and before he knew it he was around the coffee table and straddling Danielís thighs.
"Jack?" Daniel queried mildly, looking up at the older man with a mixture of curiosity, confusion and... was that interest Jack saw on Danielís face?
"Well, you did say that you wouldnít tell," Jack murmured.
"Hunh?" Daniel managed to get out before Jack moved into his personal space and took Danielís face in his hands with clear intent. "Oh, you mean I donít kiss and..."
"Bright boy, Danny, I knew youíd catch on," Jack said huskily as his thumb moved back and forth over Danielís bottom lip, dragging against the delicate flesh ever so slightly.
"So why now? I mean..."
"Daniel, shut up," Jack whispered with fond exasperation just before he sealed his mouth over the younger manís in a chaste, practically virginal kiss. The only things that touched were Jackís hands on Danielís face, his inner thighs brushing against Danielís knees, and their lips.
Oh sweet Jesus. If Daniel were honest with himself, he had wanted to kiss Jack for a very long time, but this... this was night and day to what he had thought it would be like. Their lips clung to one another, flesh brushing softly, and their breath created moisture to aid in slicking the slide of skin. It was almost a tease, a promise of the kiss to come, an erotic amuse bouche to tantalize their senses and make them crave more.
And crave more Jack did. He wasnít as stupid as he led people to believe. Daniel had given him an opening, and heíd taken it, hoo boy had he taken it, finally giving in to what had been simmering below his shallow-seeming surface for a very long time. And now Jack wanted to take it further. His tongue flicked out, tracing Danielís lips, begging entrance to the warm, slick cavern hidden behind those bee-stung temptations that were the younger manís lips, and with a slight, breathless moan Daniel let him inside.
What had been as delicate and gentle as the brush of an angelís wing quickly fell from grace and became devilishly hot. Lips fused together, tongues dueled, teeth nibbled and bit, adding a slight spice of discomfort to the overwhelming sweetness of something that been heretofore a forbidden act.
Breathlessly they broke apart, Danielís eyes wide and hungry, Jackís shocked and a little desperate. Who the hell knew theyíd had that bottled up inside them?
"Oh fuck yes!"
"Daniel," Jack growled in response.
"I donít fuck and tell, either."
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