fic: perpetual motion
My entry into the "Get Daniel Jackson Laid' ficathon. Unbetaed, because I am, once again, running late. I need to start writing these earlier, so I have time to pretty them up. :) But, I'm actually pretty happy with how this one turned out, so it's all good. To dramaturgca, I hope you like!
Title: Perpetual Motion
written for dramaturgca
Pairing: Daniel/Sam
Rating: a hard R, I guess
Summary: Sex. Oh, wait, you wanted a more profound summary? There really isn't one. It's Daniel, and Sam, and sex. Sam likes the motion of Daniel's body. The end.
Daniel Jackson: perpetual motion machine.
Even when he was still, he was moving. When he sat at his desk, he tapped a pencil on the arm of his chair. In briefings, his leg bounced up and down underneath the table. If one of his limbs weren’t moving, his mouth was, muttering to himself, explaining some obscure text to a captive audience, puzzling through a problem verbally. Even in bed, he tossed and turned and hogged the covers.
(This last was a constant struggle for Sam, who got cold very easily during the night. It must be psychological, she thought, because she could sleep on freezing alien planets without issue. Get her into her own bed at less than 70 degrees? She should be sleeping in a parka.)
But, yes, sharing a bed with Daniel was sometimes hard work. Not that it didn’t have its perks. Sometimes, his arm would fling over her stomach, pushing the t-shirt she slept in up below her breasts and warming the skin of her belly. She would wake up and steal a glance at his face. She was pretty sure he was still asleep. Mostly sure. So, she lay still for a moment, enjoying the feel of his skin pressing against one of the more sensitive parts of her body. After a moment, she inched closer to him, pressing her shoulder against his chest and molding her hip to the contours of his body.
His eyelids twitched then, and the arm across her belly moved slowly back towards his body, until his hand splayed on her skin. Warmth spread through her like wildfire. Sam squirmed, just a bit, and the hand moved farther up her body, until only the bunched fabric of her t-shirt separated him from her breasts. Then, and only then, one blue eye opened. “Hi, Sam.”
It was ridiculous. Even low and sleepy, it was the same tone of voice he used to greet her in the hallway at the SGC, or when she walked into his office while he worked on something. It didn’t arouse her this much at those times. Why should it - why should those simple two words - do so much to her at three o’clock in the morning? Maybe, she thought, it was simply the time. The time, and his dexterity as he pulled her t-shirt up over her head one-handed. That took talent.
He kissed her shoulder, and trailed his tongue up the side of her neck. The sensation was good enough that she managed to completely ignore his breath - besides, he wasn’t trying to kiss her on the mouth, so that solved that problem. And then, his fingers were teasing her nipple, and any thoughts about his breath were chased from her mind. Sensitive. Oooh, boy, was she sensitive right there. Daniel had figured out just the right amount of time to tease one breast, just enough to arouse without causing Sam to start climbing the walls, before moving on to the other. At this state of wakefulness, he was in no hurry - he could, it seemed, continue this torturous play for hours, nuzzling her neck while switching back and forth. Eventually, she reached up and grabbed his hand. As good as this felt, there were other parts of her body that now desperately needed the attention.
(At three in the morning, Sam had no qualms about being selfish about sex. Morning was her time to be generous, as Daniel woke from a deep sleep.)
He chuckled, and let his hand wander back down her belly and between her legs. She moaned as his fingers found just the right spot - once again, he seemed to be in no rush, as he moved his fingers in lazy circles, causing her body to rock against his hand in a rhythm faster than the one he was creating. His other hand finally crept out from underneath his body and played with her hair. He murmured noises against her ear, not words (or, at least, not words in a language she knew), but sounds she interpreted as “slow down, relax.” Her blood pulsed through her body; she was finally warm, thank god, but now he’d created a monster. “Slow” was quickly leaving her vocabulary.
She reached across her body and tugged at his clothing. He continued his play for a couple more seconds, then withdrew his hand and began removing his own clothing. Sam quickly discarded what was left of hers, then watched as his skin appeared, inch by inch. Impatiently, she sat up and pulled at his arm while he slid his boxer shorts down over his legs. He smiled at her, eyes still half-closed and drowsy, and once he was free of all clothing, pushed her gently back down onto the bed and covered her body with his.
Sam ran her hands down his chest and to the place where they were about to join. She always wanted to feel him in her hands, feel the effect she had on him. It didn’t take much on her part to coax him into full readiness - a couple of well-placed strokes, her fingers grazing the spot underneath that always made his arms nearly buckle under his own weight. When she felt him tremble, only then did she guide him into her body.
His rhythm, once again, began maddeningly slow; she’d learned to let him take that time, to lay back and enjoy the sensations, the view of his half-closed eyes above her, swimming with sleep and lust and more complicated things. Even though her body screamed for release, she waited. Waited, watched, and filed this feeling of bliss away in her memory. Sometimes, she felt as if she should savor every moment, just in case it never came around again. Daniel had a bad habit of leaving, without meaning to. She purposely didn’t think about it, but the knowledge stayed in the back of her mind. Perhaps he was only transitory, only temporary in her life like this. Every stroke, every sensation was precious.
After a relatively short period of time, though, she could no longer stand it, and began rocking against his hips, forcing the rhythm to a faster, more intense pace. She locked her legs around his and gripped his back, feeling the muscles in his shoulders move under her hands as he thrust. A few more … just like that … and the soft light behind her eyes exploded, her body arched, and she rode her orgasm into oblivion. She was only half-aware of him doing the same; she heard her name, softly, into the pillow next to her as he lowered himself back to the bed.
Daniel fell back asleep within moments. Sam was too sated and too pragmatic to be offended. In the wee hours of the morning, she wasn’t looking for tenderness, not that kind, anyway.
He pulled the covers back to his side of the bed, leaving her to feel the soft breeze from the window across her naked body. She shuddered - not entirely from the cold - sighed, and reached to the foot of the bed, where she always stashed an extra blanket. She could tell when he reached his deepest sleep again, because his leg began to move from side to side. Sam curled up against his back, and once her arms wrapped around his waist, his twitching lessened. It was a fact she never failed to notice.
Sam held him until sleep claimed her, as well.
Title: Perpetual Motion
written for dramaturgca
Pairing: Daniel/Sam
Rating: a hard R, I guess
Summary: Sex. Oh, wait, you wanted a more profound summary? There really isn't one. It's Daniel, and Sam, and sex. Sam likes the motion of Daniel's body. The end.
Daniel Jackson: perpetual motion machine.
Even when he was still, he was moving. When he sat at his desk, he tapped a pencil on the arm of his chair. In briefings, his leg bounced up and down underneath the table. If one of his limbs weren’t moving, his mouth was, muttering to himself, explaining some obscure text to a captive audience, puzzling through a problem verbally. Even in bed, he tossed and turned and hogged the covers.
(This last was a constant struggle for Sam, who got cold very easily during the night. It must be psychological, she thought, because she could sleep on freezing alien planets without issue. Get her into her own bed at less than 70 degrees? She should be sleeping in a parka.)
But, yes, sharing a bed with Daniel was sometimes hard work. Not that it didn’t have its perks. Sometimes, his arm would fling over her stomach, pushing the t-shirt she slept in up below her breasts and warming the skin of her belly. She would wake up and steal a glance at his face. She was pretty sure he was still asleep. Mostly sure. So, she lay still for a moment, enjoying the feel of his skin pressing against one of the more sensitive parts of her body. After a moment, she inched closer to him, pressing her shoulder against his chest and molding her hip to the contours of his body.
His eyelids twitched then, and the arm across her belly moved slowly back towards his body, until his hand splayed on her skin. Warmth spread through her like wildfire. Sam squirmed, just a bit, and the hand moved farther up her body, until only the bunched fabric of her t-shirt separated him from her breasts. Then, and only then, one blue eye opened. “Hi, Sam.”
It was ridiculous. Even low and sleepy, it was the same tone of voice he used to greet her in the hallway at the SGC, or when she walked into his office while he worked on something. It didn’t arouse her this much at those times. Why should it - why should those simple two words - do so much to her at three o’clock in the morning? Maybe, she thought, it was simply the time. The time, and his dexterity as he pulled her t-shirt up over her head one-handed. That took talent.
He kissed her shoulder, and trailed his tongue up the side of her neck. The sensation was good enough that she managed to completely ignore his breath - besides, he wasn’t trying to kiss her on the mouth, so that solved that problem. And then, his fingers were teasing her nipple, and any thoughts about his breath were chased from her mind. Sensitive. Oooh, boy, was she sensitive right there. Daniel had figured out just the right amount of time to tease one breast, just enough to arouse without causing Sam to start climbing the walls, before moving on to the other. At this state of wakefulness, he was in no hurry - he could, it seemed, continue this torturous play for hours, nuzzling her neck while switching back and forth. Eventually, she reached up and grabbed his hand. As good as this felt, there were other parts of her body that now desperately needed the attention.
(At three in the morning, Sam had no qualms about being selfish about sex. Morning was her time to be generous, as Daniel woke from a deep sleep.)
He chuckled, and let his hand wander back down her belly and between her legs. She moaned as his fingers found just the right spot - once again, he seemed to be in no rush, as he moved his fingers in lazy circles, causing her body to rock against his hand in a rhythm faster than the one he was creating. His other hand finally crept out from underneath his body and played with her hair. He murmured noises against her ear, not words (or, at least, not words in a language she knew), but sounds she interpreted as “slow down, relax.” Her blood pulsed through her body; she was finally warm, thank god, but now he’d created a monster. “Slow” was quickly leaving her vocabulary.
She reached across her body and tugged at his clothing. He continued his play for a couple more seconds, then withdrew his hand and began removing his own clothing. Sam quickly discarded what was left of hers, then watched as his skin appeared, inch by inch. Impatiently, she sat up and pulled at his arm while he slid his boxer shorts down over his legs. He smiled at her, eyes still half-closed and drowsy, and once he was free of all clothing, pushed her gently back down onto the bed and covered her body with his.
Sam ran her hands down his chest and to the place where they were about to join. She always wanted to feel him in her hands, feel the effect she had on him. It didn’t take much on her part to coax him into full readiness - a couple of well-placed strokes, her fingers grazing the spot underneath that always made his arms nearly buckle under his own weight. When she felt him tremble, only then did she guide him into her body.
His rhythm, once again, began maddeningly slow; she’d learned to let him take that time, to lay back and enjoy the sensations, the view of his half-closed eyes above her, swimming with sleep and lust and more complicated things. Even though her body screamed for release, she waited. Waited, watched, and filed this feeling of bliss away in her memory. Sometimes, she felt as if she should savor every moment, just in case it never came around again. Daniel had a bad habit of leaving, without meaning to. She purposely didn’t think about it, but the knowledge stayed in the back of her mind. Perhaps he was only transitory, only temporary in her life like this. Every stroke, every sensation was precious.
After a relatively short period of time, though, she could no longer stand it, and began rocking against his hips, forcing the rhythm to a faster, more intense pace. She locked her legs around his and gripped his back, feeling the muscles in his shoulders move under her hands as he thrust. A few more … just like that … and the soft light behind her eyes exploded, her body arched, and she rode her orgasm into oblivion. She was only half-aware of him doing the same; she heard her name, softly, into the pillow next to her as he lowered himself back to the bed.
Daniel fell back asleep within moments. Sam was too sated and too pragmatic to be offended. In the wee hours of the morning, she wasn’t looking for tenderness, not that kind, anyway.
He pulled the covers back to his side of the bed, leaving her to feel the soft breeze from the window across her naked body. She shuddered - not entirely from the cold - sighed, and reached to the foot of the bed, where she always stashed an extra blanket. She could tell when he reached his deepest sleep again, because his leg began to move from side to side. Sam curled up against his back, and once her arms wrapped around his waist, his twitching lessened. It was a fact she never failed to notice.
Sam held him until sleep claimed her, as well.