By Cowardly Lion
Moving hastily, Daniel set Jack’s tac vest and gunbelt on the leaf strewn litter of the forest floor. In front of him, Jack ripped off his jacket then peeled off the clinging t-shirt beneath it, flinging it carelessly away. Shaking hands dropped immediately to his waist, fumbling with the belt.
“Boots,” said Daniel, as he quickly knelt in front of his friend. His nimble fingers plucked at the laces. “Boots first, or we’ll never get your pants off.” There was a fleeting feeling of déjà vu as he realized this was how his Forest Fantasy usually began. Only this time, it was no dream.
Daniel tugged at the boots, scooting forward as Jack hopped first on one foot then the other until he backed against a tree and regained his balance by leaning on it. The stubborn buckle and fly had yielded, gaping wide open. Still in front of Jack, the second boot dropping from his grasp, Daniel knelt up to wedge his fingers between boxers and skin. With one swift pull he exposed the man to mid thigh, the clothes balking as they bunched up at the knees.
“Off,” ordered Jack gruffly, “all the way off.”
Oh, yeah, Daniel had heard those words, that demanding tone in his mind so many times before it was hard not to respond the way he wanted to. Instead, he shoved down again as Jack stepped out of the crumpled puddle of fabric. Running both hands over those whipcord lean legs, he could feel the hard muscles tensing and flexing as Jack shifted his weight. The coarse hairs whispered against his palms as he rose, his hands still connecting the two of them, flesh to flesh.
Daniel touched that lean body everywhere he could. The lightly furred chest and belly fascinated him, so different from his own smoothness, though the underlying strength was the same. He was surprised at the feel of that hair. Coarse on the legs, it was soft where it whorled around the brown nipples and trailed down the midline of the belly. Reaching up, exploring fingers curved over the shoulders. The arms were harder to touch since Jack’s hands were moving too. Daniel brushed them briefly then moved on. Stepping closer, he slid his hands around, moving lightly over the broad back, but the position was awkward, ineffective.
“I can’t reach if you keep wiggling like that,” said Daniel.
“Sorry. Can’t help it.” Breathing harshly, Jack bit down on his lip as though he didn’t want to cry out.
“Turn around,” Daniel murmured. “Rest your arms against the tree trunk.”
He was amazed at how fast Jack complied. Oh yeah, this was so much better. He could see everything, touch everything. He let gravity take his hands lower, lower still, felt the hot flesh swelling against the delicate touch of his fingertips.
“Jesus, Daniel,” whispered Jack, “I can’t stand it.”
Daniel whispered back not even aware of what he said. They were words of comfort and encouragement. Words meant to calm, words meant to soothe. For once, the sound was more important than the meaning. With the clumsy fingers of one hand, he searched his pockets for the tube they needed so very badly right now. Clutching it tightly, he hauled it from the mass of oddments cluttering his cargo pocket. With one practiced move of his thumb, he spun the top off of the tube, letting it fall as it may. There would be plenty of time to find it later.
Squeezing the cold gel directly onto the trembling man in front of him, he said, “This welt on your, ah, buttock is the worst of them. You’ve got another on your shoulder blade that looks almost as nasty, but the others aren’t too bad.”
Daniel sighed. His forest fantasy was playing out before his eyes. Sort of. He HAD imagined stripping Jack naked, urged on by Jack’s breathless demands, but it had been as a highly charged erotic yet tender moment between them. There was nothing erotic about whatever the hell bugs those were that he’d brushed off of Jack. As for tender – well, Daniel had envisioned tender-romantic, not tender- “Ow! Ow! That hurts!” There was nothing romantic about seeing his friend in pain.
“Christ on a crutch,” growled Jack, stretching one arm back to grab his puffy misshapen butt cheek. “It feels like someone stabbed me in the ass, set it on fire, then pissed out the fucking flames.”
No, there was nothing even remotely romantic about it.
“Thank god Carter and Teal’c aren’t here to see this,” griped Jack, “ Here, gimme some more of that gel. There’s some little bites starting to show on my calf.”
Without a word, Daniel squeezed out more gel into Jack’s hand. Jack, naked as the day he was born, promptly bent over in front of Daniel, the better to get the bites on his leg. Daniel stared at Jack’s ass, recognizing yet again, a little snippet from his autoerotic play list. In his mind, there was certainly less carping and whining from Jack. Not to mention the view was unobstructed by giant red welts. Contemplating the capricious vindictiveness of The Fates, he applied the antihistamine gel to each of the bug bites. Be careful what you wish for, he thought.
|Summary:||Daniel finds that dreams and reality just don't mix.|
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sequel to Dreams Come True. Thanks to Mare for the Really Truly Lightning Beta. Rated Mature for intent and THAT cuss word.