Fic: The Raven SG-1
Sep. 9th, 2006 06:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frahulettaesThis is for the 'Get Daniel Laid' Ficathon.
For Bria Ferguson
The Raven
Jack/Daniel
NC-17 ish
Fra
2004
“So…what’s she doin now?” He lobbed the words across the small distance to Daniel’s ear unwilling to look away from the fire before them and it’s attendant. His mouth had opened as if to speak but he found only air swimming in and out, a back brain response keeping his body alive while his mind was woven into the tapestry of motion unfolding. Daniel was speaking in his low, professorial voice but Jack had to manhandle his attention away from the fire and it’s enticing weave of motion and flesh and light.
“….as in early Earth pagan…often more accurate than…..Jack? Are you even listing?” There was a slap, physical then mental as Jack’s mind reeled back to the man next him, focusing muzzily on the lips parting and opening in what he knew were words but had the dizzy feeling were floating farther away. Thick ropes of smoke drifted and curled from the array of incense burners, light played off the burnished metal from each holder and the brazier and dribbles of water and the flickering metallic banners signifying wind.
“….now….a time when the elder in the tribe would mentor the younger….and in that way….” B’wshe had walked widdershins around the fire and ended up next to Daniel. He could feel the build up of energy through the air, the smoke curled, eyes turned towards them, it had all happened before, but his feet remained frozen to the ground and all he could do was see B’wshe raise her red stained finger up, chanting thrumming through his chest, panic coiled like nausea, and her finger, long and white and so beautiful, touch the center of Daniel’s forehead.
He waited for the panic to spring, for the snap of the inner bubble to awaken his limbs and break this frozenness. Daniel’s words trailed into silence, the red mark between his eyes stopping the tumble of knowledge as nothing else ever had.
“No greda ingal prda esl dra phdnon.” B’wshe’s words curled through the smoke and light, Daniel’s eyes were impossibly wide. “Crendetia preda?” She demended. “Dosla dra ingala, ne?”
“Ne.” said Daniel.
She cackled. “Dohs,” she leaned back, hands on hips. “crendetia peshta greda. Ne? Dra, de de de” each de was accompanied by a hand chop through the air.
“NE.” said Daniel, louder and with greater tension and then gasped between his teeth, “ne…peshta. Ne.”
She nodded and took his hand splaying his fingers out fully and stabbed the center with her small bone knife. “aahhhh…” and Jack could smell the salt tang of blood.
He wanted to move, to bat the tiny white dagger away and raise the broken flesh to his mouth. B’wshe looked at him. Her weight shifted back and she looked back at Daniel and laughed a soft and surprised laugh. “Peshta? Dra de est chres de, D’nl?” Her sea-eyes drank them in, the fire sparkled off her coppery hair and she grabbed her pouch, upending it in the fire, then cold, white fingers clasped his wrist and his palm was smashed to Daniel’s, the blood a sticky patch joining them.
She wavered and began flowing away into the bluest parts of flame where the fire met it‘s food. Whatever she’d poured into it became transparent, great shining pearls of light flickering around them, closing the circle she’d laid out so few minutes before. Minutes when he’d been sane, when he’d remembered why they were here and that he’d come to work sated by a week of Daniel’s flesh and yet the need to taste him and know him obliterated that memory, demanding a new one in it’s place.
He could feel this running over his skin, under his shirt and jacket, his BDU’s and the panic desire to cut them away, off, gone. His hands felt like rubber balloons but he scrabbled to tear away the confining tissue layers given him by a far away life. He could feel the hot flickering tongue of the fire against his skin, his cock pained in it’s confinement each wanting to bask in the warm and light. It was a moment before he notice he’d let go of Daniel’s hand and that the other man stood, transfixed, eyes wide, the firelight shining and sparking off of the thin metal and glass. He seemed to neither see nor hear. Jack wanted him to see. To hear. Wanted him to wake up. Wanted to be the one to awaken him.
“Daniel…” Jack took the bloodied hand, raised it up and pressed his lips there. Eyes closed, stomach rattled he wanted passionately to kiss the wound well, to see the scar less skin. Daniel struggled beneath his touch, muscles bunching and releasing and he was trying to say something but it sounded garbled and tuneless. Fabric tore beneath Jack’s fingers, his long bare thigh jammed between Daniel’s legs, steadying him. Jack wanted to see Daniel’s skin in the firelight. Daniel exhaled, sighed, gave up trying to speak and let his clothes be cut away in silence.
The ring of pearl lights floated, reflecting the firelight and the warmth of flesh and the black of the night. He was lost in sensation and warmth and the simple, fire-bright trails of touch Daniel left on him, tried to mirror those lines on Daniel’s flesh. He could almost see them with his eyes. Spirals, sweeps, points of light where he’d sucked the flesh into his mouth.
The fur under his back so soft and hot and the orange flesh shape of Daniel above him outlined by the black of this world’s night and he was falling away, back wards, into bliss. Daniel’s hand held the base of Jack’s cock, long thighs rode the planes of Jack’s ribs and the nudge of feet tucked under Jack’s ass, all lost as Daniel sat on his dick and the blood sound in his ears pounded along with the rise and fall of Daniel’s hips.
Purpling shadows crossed the orange, drumming and thrumming and chanting air filled with incense and cadence of his heart and the lick of flames reflected in pearls and flesh and the sight of Daniel’s face and chest and the feel of his hands and the squeeze of his ass around Jack’s cock. He was gone, separated, could no longer catalog or define or make sense of himself or his senses and suddenly he knew that all of those needs where the cosmic rabbit hole down which he’d fallen for most of his life.
And even that thought swirled away in the flooding rush of pleasure pounding through him and he cried out to no one, to everything , into Daniel.
**********
He was on his back. The night sky had begun to blush, giant Oaks made black sentries clumped, guarding him from the dawn. He turned his head. He wanted to see Daniel. He was alone on his back, hot fur beneath him and the air smelling of charcoal and rain. His heart made a jagged thump and he rolled and prayed and begged for this not to have happened. Oh, god, where was he? Where? He rolled to his feet, knees angry and complaining and looked but his eyes were full of water and all he could see was wavering lines of gray.
“DANIEL?” He cried but he sounded like a crow and he coughed to clear his voice and that cawed out of him and now he was really afraid. “DANIELDANIELDANIEL…” he inhaled from the bottom of his being and cried the name from all that he was….
**********
Gone was the loose limbed woman with floating copper hair. No. This was a change. He looked up from tiny feet in sea-colored satin, across shimmering weightless gossamer skirts and the shock of soft white belly and the swell of perfect, rose tipped breasts and saw that she’d become not a witch, not pagan but a queen. Flame hair coiled and held in metal and jeweled clips and on her shoulder a companion, black and pointed, defying him to say a single thing.
Another him would’ve been impressed but this him had become a hollow, windswept vessel. Deprived even of words. He grunted, tried to make it sound like a question.
She smiled and her companion flopped and flapped into the air, weird and ungainly. He watched it go higher and knew, in that moment, that everything he’d done, everything this planet, that his whole life had stolen from him was only something he’d given away.
The cold white fingers rested on his wrist and the fog cleared and beside the wreckage of the fire the white form of Daniel lay curled on the fur they’d shared.
“Not dead, not dead, not dead…not not….” he was muttering, running. Two fingers pressed to Daniel’s neck and there it was, thank God, the dull thudding that a sleeping heart made against his fingers.
He gathered the sleeping figure, pulled him close, muttered in his ear stupid loving words. Made promises, begged quietly for another chance but please, please god or goddess or who or whatever could possible hear that he’d never let this happen again. Never.
*******
They made the gate by what seemed like early afternoon, but was not nearly soon enough. Daniel’s arm slung over Jack’s shoulder and both too tired and shocked to say much. Jack never put Daniel down, not even to dial home. The time between the last symbol and his hand on the central crystal and the blue flash of the wormhole opening just a blur, just held on by the skin of his teeth. And he dragged Daniel up the steps and he hit the GDO and then he just pushed them both forward and the rest was up to the universe. He was done.
*******
In the months after, when the dark fell and the flickering orange of fire danced in the fireplace, they’d look at each other and remember the pearls. But they never spoke about it again. And they never tried to define who or what they were. They just became. And that was pretty good. All things considered.
For Bria Ferguson
The Raven
Jack/Daniel
NC-17 ish
Fra
2004
“So…what’s she doin now?” He lobbed the words across the small distance to Daniel’s ear unwilling to look away from the fire before them and it’s attendant. His mouth had opened as if to speak but he found only air swimming in and out, a back brain response keeping his body alive while his mind was woven into the tapestry of motion unfolding. Daniel was speaking in his low, professorial voice but Jack had to manhandle his attention away from the fire and it’s enticing weave of motion and flesh and light.
“….as in early Earth pagan…often more accurate than…..Jack? Are you even listing?” There was a slap, physical then mental as Jack’s mind reeled back to the man next him, focusing muzzily on the lips parting and opening in what he knew were words but had the dizzy feeling were floating farther away. Thick ropes of smoke drifted and curled from the array of incense burners, light played off the burnished metal from each holder and the brazier and dribbles of water and the flickering metallic banners signifying wind.
“….now….a time when the elder in the tribe would mentor the younger….and in that way….” B’wshe had walked widdershins around the fire and ended up next to Daniel. He could feel the build up of energy through the air, the smoke curled, eyes turned towards them, it had all happened before, but his feet remained frozen to the ground and all he could do was see B’wshe raise her red stained finger up, chanting thrumming through his chest, panic coiled like nausea, and her finger, long and white and so beautiful, touch the center of Daniel’s forehead.
He waited for the panic to spring, for the snap of the inner bubble to awaken his limbs and break this frozenness. Daniel’s words trailed into silence, the red mark between his eyes stopping the tumble of knowledge as nothing else ever had.
“No greda ingal prda esl dra phdnon.” B’wshe’s words curled through the smoke and light, Daniel’s eyes were impossibly wide. “Crendetia preda?” She demended. “Dosla dra ingala, ne?”
“Ne.” said Daniel.
She cackled. “Dohs,” she leaned back, hands on hips. “crendetia peshta greda. Ne? Dra, de de de” each de was accompanied by a hand chop through the air.
“NE.” said Daniel, louder and with greater tension and then gasped between his teeth, “ne…peshta. Ne.”
She nodded and took his hand splaying his fingers out fully and stabbed the center with her small bone knife. “aahhhh…” and Jack could smell the salt tang of blood.
He wanted to move, to bat the tiny white dagger away and raise the broken flesh to his mouth. B’wshe looked at him. Her weight shifted back and she looked back at Daniel and laughed a soft and surprised laugh. “Peshta? Dra de est chres de, D’nl?” Her sea-eyes drank them in, the fire sparkled off her coppery hair and she grabbed her pouch, upending it in the fire, then cold, white fingers clasped his wrist and his palm was smashed to Daniel’s, the blood a sticky patch joining them.
She wavered and began flowing away into the bluest parts of flame where the fire met it‘s food. Whatever she’d poured into it became transparent, great shining pearls of light flickering around them, closing the circle she’d laid out so few minutes before. Minutes when he’d been sane, when he’d remembered why they were here and that he’d come to work sated by a week of Daniel’s flesh and yet the need to taste him and know him obliterated that memory, demanding a new one in it’s place.
He could feel this running over his skin, under his shirt and jacket, his BDU’s and the panic desire to cut them away, off, gone. His hands felt like rubber balloons but he scrabbled to tear away the confining tissue layers given him by a far away life. He could feel the hot flickering tongue of the fire against his skin, his cock pained in it’s confinement each wanting to bask in the warm and light. It was a moment before he notice he’d let go of Daniel’s hand and that the other man stood, transfixed, eyes wide, the firelight shining and sparking off of the thin metal and glass. He seemed to neither see nor hear. Jack wanted him to see. To hear. Wanted him to wake up. Wanted to be the one to awaken him.
“Daniel…” Jack took the bloodied hand, raised it up and pressed his lips there. Eyes closed, stomach rattled he wanted passionately to kiss the wound well, to see the scar less skin. Daniel struggled beneath his touch, muscles bunching and releasing and he was trying to say something but it sounded garbled and tuneless. Fabric tore beneath Jack’s fingers, his long bare thigh jammed between Daniel’s legs, steadying him. Jack wanted to see Daniel’s skin in the firelight. Daniel exhaled, sighed, gave up trying to speak and let his clothes be cut away in silence.
The ring of pearl lights floated, reflecting the firelight and the warmth of flesh and the black of the night. He was lost in sensation and warmth and the simple, fire-bright trails of touch Daniel left on him, tried to mirror those lines on Daniel’s flesh. He could almost see them with his eyes. Spirals, sweeps, points of light where he’d sucked the flesh into his mouth.
The fur under his back so soft and hot and the orange flesh shape of Daniel above him outlined by the black of this world’s night and he was falling away, back wards, into bliss. Daniel’s hand held the base of Jack’s cock, long thighs rode the planes of Jack’s ribs and the nudge of feet tucked under Jack’s ass, all lost as Daniel sat on his dick and the blood sound in his ears pounded along with the rise and fall of Daniel’s hips.
Purpling shadows crossed the orange, drumming and thrumming and chanting air filled with incense and cadence of his heart and the lick of flames reflected in pearls and flesh and the sight of Daniel’s face and chest and the feel of his hands and the squeeze of his ass around Jack’s cock. He was gone, separated, could no longer catalog or define or make sense of himself or his senses and suddenly he knew that all of those needs where the cosmic rabbit hole down which he’d fallen for most of his life.
And even that thought swirled away in the flooding rush of pleasure pounding through him and he cried out to no one, to everything , into Daniel.
**********
He was on his back. The night sky had begun to blush, giant Oaks made black sentries clumped, guarding him from the dawn. He turned his head. He wanted to see Daniel. He was alone on his back, hot fur beneath him and the air smelling of charcoal and rain. His heart made a jagged thump and he rolled and prayed and begged for this not to have happened. Oh, god, where was he? Where? He rolled to his feet, knees angry and complaining and looked but his eyes were full of water and all he could see was wavering lines of gray.
“DANIEL?” He cried but he sounded like a crow and he coughed to clear his voice and that cawed out of him and now he was really afraid. “DANIELDANIELDANIEL…” he inhaled from the bottom of his being and cried the name from all that he was….
**********
Gone was the loose limbed woman with floating copper hair. No. This was a change. He looked up from tiny feet in sea-colored satin, across shimmering weightless gossamer skirts and the shock of soft white belly and the swell of perfect, rose tipped breasts and saw that she’d become not a witch, not pagan but a queen. Flame hair coiled and held in metal and jeweled clips and on her shoulder a companion, black and pointed, defying him to say a single thing.
Another him would’ve been impressed but this him had become a hollow, windswept vessel. Deprived even of words. He grunted, tried to make it sound like a question.
She smiled and her companion flopped and flapped into the air, weird and ungainly. He watched it go higher and knew, in that moment, that everything he’d done, everything this planet, that his whole life had stolen from him was only something he’d given away.
The cold white fingers rested on his wrist and the fog cleared and beside the wreckage of the fire the white form of Daniel lay curled on the fur they’d shared.
“Not dead, not dead, not dead…not not….” he was muttering, running. Two fingers pressed to Daniel’s neck and there it was, thank God, the dull thudding that a sleeping heart made against his fingers.
He gathered the sleeping figure, pulled him close, muttered in his ear stupid loving words. Made promises, begged quietly for another chance but please, please god or goddess or who or whatever could possible hear that he’d never let this happen again. Never.
*******
They made the gate by what seemed like early afternoon, but was not nearly soon enough. Daniel’s arm slung over Jack’s shoulder and both too tired and shocked to say much. Jack never put Daniel down, not even to dial home. The time between the last symbol and his hand on the central crystal and the blue flash of the wormhole opening just a blur, just held on by the skin of his teeth. And he dragged Daniel up the steps and he hit the GDO and then he just pushed them both forward and the rest was up to the universe. He was done.
*******
In the months after, when the dark fell and the flickering orange of fire danced in the fireplace, they’d look at each other and remember the pearls. But they never spoke about it again. And they never tried to define who or what they were. They just became. And that was pretty good. All things considered.
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