eleven a.m.

a Stargate SG-1 story

by dirty diana


More shameless cheer-up smut. Mmmn, cranky hungover Daniel. Thanks and kisses to my beta, sffan.

Daniel stumbled into the kitchen at nearly eleven, with a slow shuffling walk, his eyes half-closed to guard against the blinding sunlight that streamed through the windows.

"Morning," Jack greeted him.

Daniel stopped in the doorway, glaring at him. "I'm going to die."

Jack put down the wooden spoon in his hand, pausing his cooking to examine Daniel critically. "No, you're not."

"I am too." Daniel made a pained face, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "And stop laughing at me. Why did you let me drink so much?"

Jack shrugged, trying and failing to hide a small smirk. "Sorry. I didn't have time to keep track of how many of Carter's death daiquiris you were putting away. I was busy trying to keep you from groping me in public."

Daniel blushed slightly, forehead crinkling as he tried to call up the faded memory. "I was not."

"You were. I have the bruises to prove it. Bruises everywhere." Jack added significance to the last word with a knowing expression.

Daniel stared at him in disbelief. "No. There's no way."

"Do you want to see the bruises?"

"We had sex last night?"

"Twice," Jack assured him. "Once in the car, and once on my..."

"In the car?" Daniel repeated.

Jack shrugged. "You said you couldn't wait. You seemed pretty sure about it."

Daniel licked his lips, considering this, as he stared balefully at the kitchen utensils gathered on Jack's counter. "I can't believe you took advantage of me while I was drunk," he said finally.

Jack frowned at him. "Did I mention the bruises?"

Daniel groaned softly, pressing two fingers to his temples. "You're such a bastard, Jack. The least you could do is have a little sympathy for me."

"Hey." Jack tilted his head, voice dipping slightly in volume as he spoke. "I have sympathy. Go sit down. I'll bring you some aspirin. And coffee."

"Breakfast?" Daniel asked.

Jack stared at him. "Really?"

"Yes," Daniel answered firmly. "I smell waffles."

Jack rolled his eyes, and turned back to the sizzling stove. "Fine. Go sit down."

Jack watched as Daniel pushed aside his plate, leaning back in his chair. "Feeling better?" he asked.

"Yes." Daniel smiled, a pleased, lopsided smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jack sipped his coffee, and watched Daniel staring at him, the smile still smooth on his face. "What?" he asked.

"Come here," Daniel said.

Jack eyed him sceptically. "Why? You're not going to throw up on me, are you?"

"No," Daniel promised. "Come here."

Jack sighed, and got up. He crossed the room, coming to rest in front of Daniel's chair as Daniel turned to face him.

Daniel was still smiling, as his fingers toyed with the zipper on Jack's blue jeans. Jack raised both his eyebrows. "What are you doing?"

"Thanking you for breakfast." Slowly Daniel stroked Jack's thighs, with the flat palm of his hand. "Have I told you how much I love it when you make me breakfast?"

Jack frowned, watching Daniel's head move downwards, light-brown hair brushing against the hem of his pale blue shirt. "You know," he commented, "I think you're still a little drunk."

"Could be," Daniel agreed, his mouth brushing the fabric of Jack's jeans, blowing warm air against Jack's groin. "Take off your clothes."

"Daniel," Jack said firmly, as he grabbed Daniel's arm and pulled him to a standing position, "we're not doing it on my dining room table."

"Why not?"

"Because it was expensive."

Daniel made a face. "I bet my bed cost more than your dining room table. And we have sex on that all the time."

Jack's sigh was soft and unconvincing, as Daniel's large, warm body pressed against him. "Turn around," he murmured.

Daniel smiled. He switched places with him, leaving Jack resting against the hard wooden edge of the table, as Daniel pressed against him, tucking long fingers into Jack's jeans, brushing against bare skin as he pushed him down onto the flat surface.

Jack's broad hands came to rest firmly in the centre of Daniel's back, pulling him closer, mouths searching and seeking and finding heat. The mingled tastes of syrup and coffee still clung to Daniel's tongue, as it slipped into Jack's mouth. Daniel's fingers dug carelessly into Jack's waist, as he shifted the weight of his body, trapping Jack tightly between his knees as he kissed him.

"Tell me about it," he whispered, his breath warm against the skin inside the collar of Jack's shirt.

Jack's hands were traveling now, down the smooth incline of Daniel's back. "Tell you about what?"

"Last night. You said we did it in two places. Where was the second place?"

"In my bed," Jack said. He wasn't any good at this, but he knew that Daniel liked it, liked to hear Jack's voice sliding across his skin. "I took you to bed. And then you fucked me."

"Yeah?" Jack could feel Daniel smiling, against his skin. "Did you like it?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I don't remember. That's why I'm asking you about it." Daniel's tone was patient, his movements less so, his hands restless underneath Jack's shirt. His hips pushed languidly against Jack, with cool and teasing pressure. "You liked it?"

"Yeah," Jack whispered. He was hard now, the memory sinking into him in loud colour, Daniel's hands heavy on his hips as he moaned and thrust inside him. "You're really warm when you've been drinking, did you know that?"

"Yeah?" Daniel asked quietly.

"Yeah. Warm all over. Warm hands."

Daniel's mouth brushed Jack's nipples, inside his open shirt, and stopped to rest on a dark pink mark just above his heart. Gently Daniel's tongue swept the bruise. "And I hurt you," he said softly.

"A little bit," Jack answered, as Daniel pushed against him, against Jack's thighs and hands as Jack undid the buttons to Daniel's jeans. Daniel's cock slid, full and hard, into his hand.

Daniel let out a breathless gasp. His hands dropped below Jack's waist, finding another bruise on Jack's hip, pressing his fingers into it. "You liked that."

Jack's moan caught inside him, halfway in his throat. "Shhh," he murmured, as he tugged at the zipper on his jeans. They rubbed stickily together, and then Daniel reached for him.

Jack took Daniel's cock inside his fingers, thumb brushing over the head. Daniel's palm swept down the length of his cock, squeezing slightly. Jack grunted desperately at the sensation, smooth hot skin. Daniel slid up to kiss him, his hand finding Jack's rhythm, sweet and slow. Jack could barely breathe, surrounded by Daniel, the heavy weight of him, the smell of him, the sound of him, breathing want into Jack's ear.

Daniel stroked him hard, Jack pressing up into his touch. And then with a groan he came, hot and sticky against Daniel's hand and belly. Daniel pressed his lips together tightly as he watched the tide sweep over him, and then he followed.

"Feeling okay?" Jack asked softly, as Daniel's shaking body became still, inside his arms.

Daniel's tongue brushed his lips as he smiled. "Yeah. But remind me to never drink again."

Jack laughed at him. "That's what you said last time."

"I mean it this time."

"Okay." Jack frowned. "Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"Do you, by any chance, happen to know how much you weigh?"

"Not really." Daniel lifted his head, and leaned his elbow into the centre of Jack's chest, with a slow, deliberate motion. "But I'm not getting up until you ask me nicely."

Jack grinned. "Can you get off me, please?"

"And until you promise to bring me more breakfast."