There they are, the sounds I've been waiting for, and my heart jumps in my chest, sad old sap that I am. The sound of his key in the lock and then the sounds of his footsteps heading this way before he pokes his head round the bedroom door.
"Good, you're still awake. I was worried that you might be asleep by now."
"You took your time. I thought you were right behind me?"
"Yeah, sorry about that. I got here as quickly as I could, it wasn't my fault this time, honestly." His brows pull down in a small frown. "Every time I went to get my coat, something or someone else seemed to be determined to stop me from leaving. Just one damn thing after another – it always seems to be the same when we're just about to start some well-earned downtime after a hard mission. Everybody wants something, and they want it yesterday. It's so frustrating – all I really wanted to do was to get out of there pronto, and get home to you."
But, of course, you wouldn't do that. It's just not in you to give anything less than your best.
"I was starting to think you might have run out on me."
A sharp glance to make sure I'm teasing, then a brilliant, fleeting smile. "Not likely! It's difficult to run when you're getting blue balls. Besides, I've got plans. And you're definitely part of them. First off, though, I've got to clean up."
"Don't take too long, I've kinda got plans here too."
Another smile. "Good, we can compare and contrast as soon as I'm done. Don't worry, I'll be quick – ten minutes at the outside."
He's as good as his word, and disappears promptly, starting to shuck his clothes as he turns away. One quick glimpse of his smooth, taut middle as he goes, and then I have to content myself with waiting again. It's okay though: I can hear him in the shower, singing to himself and making all the right sort of splashing noises. Splashing is good: for one, it equates with speed. For two, I can use my imagination, visualizing him standing there with the water cascading down his smooth skin and hard muscle, picturing the way the droplets of water cling in all the interesting places. If I had more energy and fewer bruises, I might pad through and join him: but I'm in a comfortable, heavy limbed, idle place right now, and I'm quite content to wait. Besides, I like lying here, listening to Daniel readying himself to come to bed and fuck: the anticipation, the lazy contemplation of what I'm going to do with him, wondering what he's going to do to me, whether it's going to be slow and gentle or whether it's going to suddenly turn hard and fast. Just the knowledge that it's Daniel that I'm going to make love with in the very immediate future, is the biggest rush imaginable.
Times like this, I bless the extra ten years on the clock, they kinda help keep the playing field level. Certainly can't see how I'd have stayed the course constantly being this worked up ten or fifteen years ago.
I'm still keeping an ear tuned to the noises from the bathroom. Water's just stopped running: time to get out and towel dry. I know his routine by now, I've seen it and shared it often enough that I can follow him in my mind's eye drying his feet and legs first to get out onto the mat. He's always fussy about drying his toes, for some unfathomable reason. Waste of time, in my opinion – I'm just gonna get them all damp again in the near future in all likelihood. I've even said that to him a couple of times, but he's just grinned and carried on meticulously, just like usual, and made some crack about indulging my foot fetish with his own.
Next the arms, drying them off in quick sweeps, followed by a brisk rub down back and front, and finally his sweet little ass and groin. Wonder if he's hard yet? Probably yes, judging by the way he hauled ass when he came in. Wonder just how hard? Makes me harden, just wondering…
Now the faucet's running: a quick shave, I hear the gel can squirt. And that thought makes my dick twitch and my balls tighten as I follow it through to its logical conclusion. He's planning to go down on me then, at least for some portion of tonight's activities. He probably wouldn't bother otherwise, since I happen to know he shaved back at base too after his medical. Now that's a thought to savor, his mouth is one of the hottest things about him. The shape of it, the fullness of it, what he does with it: I could die a happy, happy man with that mouth on any part of my body.
Ah, the faucet again – teeth this time. I can hear the noise the brush makes, changing as his mouth moves to accommodate it. This means he's nearly done. He should be coming back through that door in about three minutes, combing his hair down as he comes. Maybe with his towel slung round his hips, but maybe not. Either way, he'll probably be hard enough to make an impression, hard enough to give me an eyeful as he struts into the room, hard enough to get me harder just with looking at him. I'm getting harder all the time just with the thought that he's going to be joining me really soon.
A year ago, I never dreamed I could be so bone-tired yet get this worked up so quickly just thinking about it, not at my age. Arousal is definitely wasted on the young, you appreciate that fact more and more the older you get. But then, a year ago, I didn't even realize that what I felt for Daniel was love, pure and simple. Okay, so maybe not that simple, given gender and regs and all, and definitely not that pure either… oh no, not pure at all. I lusted after him for far too long before I made a move – but how was I to know that he would feel the same way? If only I had, or if I hadn't tried so hard to hide it, we'd have got it on a whole lot sooner and not wasted so much time clawing at each other – or rather, clawing at each other in a bad way. Now we spend a whole lot of time clawing at each other in a good way, in the best possible way.
Geeze, how long does it take to brush your teeth? The more I think about it, the more I think I want to start on a practical demonstration of how hot he really is. I'm thinking I've waited far too long this evening already – not his fault, I know, but still, I'm getting impatient here. I think I might very well burst with waiting and wanting. I know I'm going to burst when the waiting's finally over.
So I'm thinking, what part of Daniel do I want to start with? Like a kid in a candy store, the choice is overwhelming; every part of him deserves my undivided attention. And I'm greedy enough to want it all at once, every last, delectable morsel. Oh yeah, I'm looking forward to him getting his ass in here, to getting him in my arms with my lips against his, to getting his tongue in my mouth, to getting my fingers up his ass, to getting his mouth round my dick. The small of my back tightens and shivers as I dwell on this, and I stretch and squirm as a wave of heat runs through me: better not dwell on this too long, or I won't stay the distance after all.
Better get back to that lazy place I was in five minutes ago. Better get back to listening to what's going on in the bathroom. The water's stopped again, and that's his toothbrush tapping a couple of times on the edge of the washbasin to dry it before it rattles back into the holder. Nearly done then, not much more waiting to do. The cabinet door opens and closes as his shaving gear gets put away and the light snaps off. No footsteps this time as he pads quietly back to me along the dark hall, mother-naked and finishing toweling off his hair.
I feel a slow, goofy grin splitting my face as I watch him come into the room, heading unerringly for the dresser despite his head being largely muffled in his towel.
"That didn't take you long."
His head pops back out and he grins widely. "I can move when I'm motivated enough, you should know that by now."
The towel gets tossed down on the floor by the bed as he reaches for his comb and turns to look in the mirror, watching me admire him as he smoothes down the unruly damp spikes. So much to admire – broad shoulders, narrow waist, tight rounded ass, long, lightly furred legs and arms, all gilded by the lamplight. As he finishes and turns, I can see that he's in the same half-erect state as I am. So very male, and so very desirable.
And suddenly my patience snaps as the blood floods to my groin and my dick stands very definitely to attention, curving and swelling under Daniel's steady gaze. I draw up my knees slightly and let them fall apart in deliberate invitation. He licks his lips once, twice, and then smiles and says softly, "I suppose I can take it that you're pleased to see me."
"Oh yeah. Most definitely. Now shake your tail and get over here, I've had my fill of waiting." My voice has dropped a tone or two, and he lingers just long enough to let me see that the effect it has on him is gratifying, before heading over to the bed.
The bed dips as he lowers himself onto it, settling in between my legs with a sigh of contentment, taking some of his weight on his forearms as he nuzzles my face, blindly searching for my mouth. I wrap my legs round his and reel him in, sighing some myself if truth be told, reveling in the feel of his weight on my body and the warmth of him, the softness of his belly skin against my dick and the contrasting hardness of his dick pressing against my belly, the soapy, clean, wholesome smell of him: all of these things my antidote to the rigors of our working lives.
I run my hands up his arms and shoulders, to gently catch his face between them and guide his mouth to mine. Our kiss is long and slow and impossibly sweet, passion controlled and contained by tenderness. Promising permanence without words, that extra dimension that we both need, me just as much as him. Setting the tone of our lovemaking tonight. It'll be as prolonged and gentle as we can manage, the way it often is after a hard time in the field, both of us wanting to reassure ourselves that the other really is all right. Both of us wanting to soothe the other's hurts with a wash of pleasure.
We break off and he lifts his head to look at me and smiles again, his eyes cloudy and soft.
"We haven't done the compare and contrast yet."
"Do we really need to? I think we're both pretty well on the same page here."
"High sap quotient, you mean? My sap level's pretty well through the roof." His thumbs are stroking across my forehead as he looks at me, his palms cradling my cheeks.
I smile back at him, stroking my hands in broad sweeps up and down his back. "Yep, mine too."
His eyebrows shoot up. "You're admitting it, for a change?"
"Well, you said it first, so it seems only fair. If it ever gets out though it'll ruin both our reputations. We'll just have to shoot each other. But here, between us – I quite like that we're both getting better at this romantic stuff. So there you are, my secret's out. All these years, a closet… marshmallow."
He laughs at the unexpectedness of the last word. "A pretty hot marshmallow. My very own 'smore. Don't worry, I won't tell a soul if you don't. You know," he continues thoughtfully, "'smores always were my favorite when I was a kid. I didn't get them very often so I used to like to make them last. I always used to lick them very slowly to start with, kinda like this…"
And he literally takes my breath away as he licks a trail down my body, making me gasp and wriggle as he visits all my hot spots in turn, finally zeroing in on my groin, nuzzling his cheek into my hair and making little snuffling sounds that shoot sparks up my spine. He stops with his mouth bare millimeters away from my dick and looks up at me as I groan.
"Then, when I'd held out with the licking as long as I possibly could, I used to nibble them round the edges, a little at a time, just like this…"
His lips nibble gently up the length of my shaft to the head and my legs tremble with the effort of holding still before he nibbles back down again to mouth at my balls.
"But then I would always have to go back to licking them again, trying to make them last even longer…"
Once more, he matches his actions to his words, licking up the length of my dick and down again with broad, slow sweeps of his tongue as my hands ball into fists clutching the sheets. I'm feeling it now, that deep, low coil of pleasure in my belly, that sensation of pressure building up to bursting point, and my head is thrashing about on the pillow like a puppet on a string. I don't want to come yet, please not yet, not before I've opened totally to you, not before I've felt you moving inside me…
He lifts his head again and he knows me well enough by now to sense this, because he squeezes the base of my dick firmly as he starts to speak again, mercifully taking off some of the pressure – oh, that's it, that's better, thank god, there's a chance I'm going to last now, at least for a little bit longer.
"And finally, I'd just have to swallow them down, couldn't help myself."
Jesus Christ! Even when I know what's coming I can hardly bear it when his mouth closes over me, the pleasure boiling up again inside me, taking me right to the edge, pleasure so intense it's hardly bearable, making the sweat break out all over my body. Again he realizes and his mouth stills while his fingers circle my dick and squeeze, harder this time. I have to do my bit here, I have to help him out, I have to concentrate on slowing my hammering heartbeat, thinking about all the turn-offs I could possibly visualise, struggling to slow my breathing and calm down, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He slowly, reluctantly, withdraws and looks up at me.
"Jack? You good?"
"You do any more of that and you'll see how good." My voice has gone all raspy with the effort of holding back. "Jesus, Daniel, any more of that and I'm gonna blow, big time."
"Well, that was mostly the idea."
"I don't want to come without you. I want to feel you inside me when I come. Come into me now… please?"
His eyes darken at once, the pupils so huge that there's hardly any color left to the irises, just a thin rim of blue surrounding fathomless black. Wordlessly, staring at me with those huge sexy eyes, he gropes under the pillow for the lube, flipping the cap one-handed and not wasting any time at all. Just as well, there's really no time to waste. I can't even watch as he lubes himself up, I just close my eyes and feel myself gulping as he lifts up my leg and scoots across the bed to lie at right angles to me.
And then there he is, a delicious pressure at my ass, growing harder and firmer as I deliberately relax myself even further, willingly opening myself to him until he slides home in one smooth, deep, slow stroke, burying himself to the root. No pain, no stretching, just sliding majestically in, filling me body and soul, moaning his satisfaction at the easy entry.
He starts to move, taking his pleasure, pleasuring me, but always slowly, smoothly, spinning this out until I can hardly bear it yet again. When I start to move, his hand closes possessively over my dick and he begins to pump with a sure, firm rhythm, working us both towards the edge, not stopping this time, oh no, not stopping for anything until my dick starts to ripple and pulse under his hand and my ass shoots him over the edge as it milks him dry.
I must have kinda zoned out there for a minute or two: when I can pull my scattered wits together again, Daniel's lying next to me, plastered along my side, arm over my waist and leg between mine, face buried in my neck. What I privately dub the ‘teddy bear' position. I lean over to switch off the lamp and then slide my arm around him and say, "Wow."
"As you say, wow," he agrees, happily if sleepily. "You're a great lay, Colonel O'Neill."
My arms tighten around him and I feel absurdly pleased and proud, like a teenager again. "You're no slouch yourself, Doctor Jackson. One thing for sure, I'm never going to look at the candy aisle in Safeway in the same light ever again."
He yawns, hugely. "I always liked ‘smores, but ice cream's always been an even bigger favorite of mine. I can go down on an ice cream cone like nothing you've ever seen before."
"You can show me in the morning. Or I can show you – I'm quite partial to ice cream myself. But right now, I'm wiped."
"Me too. I love you, Jack."
"Me too Daniel. Believe me, I love you too."
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