Head over Heels

Pairing: Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson
Category: Established relationship, Plot-what-plot, Smut
Rating: NC17
Summary: Lazy Sunday mornings...
Notes: Found it in my old WIP folder, decided to 'get rid of it' *g*

I wake in a haze of cosy warmth. I keep my eyes closed, knowing it's Sunday and I don't have to be anywhere. Well, apart from here, of course, in my bed, enveloped in a strong embrace. It's really a little too warm for comfort, but hey, I don't think you'd be complaining if you were in my place. I mean, what's a little discomfort when the reason for it is a man like Daniel? Just look at him...

I finally open my eyes and I don't even try to stop the goofy smile on my face. Sprawled possessively across me, head resting on my chest... it's almost heart-stopping, every damned time. It's how we always end up. We curl up to sleep, sometimes after having made love, or at times, after simply having had sex (yes, there's a difference), me spooned up behind him, but he always manoeuvres me into this, though. I'm not complaining. I love waking like this, when all I can see is the mess of brown hair and there's the feel of light breathing against my skin. Hell, I *know* he's drooling on me, but who cares? It's natural, as is the confirmation that all is in working order below the waist. But it can wait a little. It's not urgent like sometimes after a mission, when we're still high on adrenaline and we need confirmation that we're alive and kickin'. Right now it's just a slow burning need.

See, there are two ways of getting the man I love out of bed in the morning.

One: Try to get out of the death-like grip he had on me, make it to the kitchen and switch on the coffee maker. Then, when he grumpily comes down the stairs looking deliciously ruffled, I can use the cup of steaming, black gold as a peace offering.

Or two: Meticulously work my way down, worshipping all angles and planes of his body, paying special attention to all the hot spots I know by heart. I dip my tongue into his navel, rolling him over onto his back. Works like a charm every time. He lets out a deep sigh and his thighs part willingly, even though I know he's still asleep. See now I'm free of my 'human' prison, step two is making sure to mellow him before he wakes and realises it's too early to get up according to the Dr. Daniel Jackson Sunday Time-Table.

Hey, I've got plans for today, and I want to make sure we get the most out of the day.

Step two has to be done *just* right, or I'll have on every pissy linguist on my hands and trust me, it's *not* pretty. I gently nuzzle the base of his cock, feeling his muscles tighten under my hands in response, as I rest them lightly on his thighs. I plant a light kiss on the shaft, then another and another as I work my way up to the head. The noises from above are taking on a more urgent tone, but he's still mostly in dreamland.

I lick the head, just a quick swipe of the tongue, but his hips twitch and I spread the bitter, salty taste across my tongue. Slowly, so slowly, I lower my mouth over his cock, lips lightly parted as I open more, sliding down over it. I can feel the pulse thundering through it, making it throb. Warm and moist and it feel so... filling. I open up and let myself take a little more. With practised ease, I feel my throat muscles flexing and the head bumping lightly against the back of my throat, before sliding into it. I swallow a few times, knowing *exactly* what that does to him, and since my hands are already braced on his thighs I keep him from arching up. I love this, but I also know I can't keep this up. My gag reflexes just won't stand for such abuse.

Pulling back, I feel him slide out of my throat. Then I finally feel the head, heavy on my tongue. I start sucking, lightly at first, before finally setting a rhythm of bopping my head up and down, making sure to suck a little harder every time I have only the head in my mouth.

He's so responsive, writhing underneath me, making the most enticing noises, and I know he's close, both to awakening and coming.

I fall back a little, still sucking on his cock, but using my hand to work the shaft at the same time. Not that I normally mind swallowing, just... not in the morning on an empty stomach.

I know the moment his strangled moans become audible and that's my cue to pull back, out of the way while I keep the rhythm with my hand and turn my oral attention back to his navel area.

I feel the heat of his come and the spasms of his orgasm, and I soothe his trembling body until I know I can safely leave him for a while. There is a window of opportunity, a moment where I can get out of reach... If I miss it, he'll grab me and drag me down on the bed and we'll be back to square one.

I know how it goes, however, and I slip out of the bed while Daniel's still in his post-coital bliss. It buys me plenty of time to get to the kitchen and start the coffee machine. Watching the dark liquid run down into the pot I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to talk Doc Frasier into hooking my lover up with this stuff through an IV.

I pour the coffee into his mug with a light grin before making my way back to the bedroom. Oh yeah, sprawled on his back and taking up most of the bed is a vision of pure beauty and deepest sin. Most days, I ask myself how the hell I got so lucky? I mean, jeez... He's definitely not the scrawny geek he used to be, no. As much as I regret the way the military has hardened his personality, sharpened the edges, I have to admit that it's worked wonders on him physically. I know, he hasn't changed sizes in uniform, he's changed physically so it's fitting now.. Oh yeah, definitely a looker, always was, but now even more so. I've loved him forever for his mind and personality, but I've fallen in love with his body every damned day since.

"Mine..." I whisper, knowing the sappy smile on my face as I sit down on the edge of the bed.

His eyes are still closed, but he's sniffing the air. "*Mine,*" he grumbles, reaching out, blindly, as he sits up. "Gimme..."

I can't quite stifle my laughter as I guide his hands to the mug, knowing better than joking and guiding his hands to my body. I did that once, and learned my lesson.

I get up, leaving Daniel with his substitute lover. I'm not jealous, I'll wait my turn, though I'm still semi-hard since I didn't get off when he did. It's okay, I can wait a little longer. Walking into the bathroom, I go to turn on the shower, setting the temperature just right. I return to the bedroom precisely in time to watch Daniel eye the clock on the night table with pursed lips, setting his empty mug next to it.


I grin as I pull him up and out of bed, and give him a 'hello-good-morning-looove-you' kiss.

I get a 'hi-love-you-too-you-old-sap-but-it's-*still*-too-early-to-get-up' kiss in return.

"I have plans for today -- plans I guarantee you'll love," I finally say, when we ease up on the lip-lock.

He gives me a sleepy smile in return. "'kay."


He nods and follows me willingly into the bathroom and into the shower stall. This is another morning ritual we rarely have time for. We never start this on ordinary mornings, before we head off to work, it's just not a good idea to start something we won't have time to finish anyway and this takes time, lots of it.

I turn and reach around him to close the stall and he takes the opportunity to slip his arms around me and pull me in for a kiss, holding me close. It's strange to have a lover who's as strong as me, but it's great too. I don't have to hold back, I know he can deck me if he wants. He can't keep me down yet, he's still got a lot of training before he can manage that, but I know he's taking lessons and he's a fast learner.

I smile softly as my hands move on their own to rest possessively on his ass. I'm allowed, I've laid claim to it often enough. I chuckle as he mirrors my movement and I can feel the curve of his lips against my neck. Yes, it's a two-way deal and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I manoeuvre him in under the spray, freeing one hand to grab the shampoo, then the other to squeeze it into. I squirt out a little too much, but that's entirely Daniel's fault, 'cause he grabs my ass harder and grinds against me. I do so love his one-track-mind when it comes to sex. On duty his mind goes in so many directions it's a miracle he's still sane when I take him home at night. Not that he stops thinking just because we aren't on duty, definitely not, but he does pay attention to an old man like me and slows down... a little. His mind is still working on excess caffeine when we start making out on the couch at some point during the evening and when we eventually move to the bedroom. But that's where all the 'roads' of Daniel's mind lead to Rome, or rather, to bed, sex and me. The first time we had sex, he scared me a little, the way he was solely concentrated on me, like I was all there was in the world.

I've seen him throw himself at something like that before, when we've been in life or death situations and everything has rested on his shoulders. Admitted, sex is no life or death situation, but he still treats it with the same attention.

I work my fingers through his short hair, making sure I work up enough lather to get him a white wig of foam. He shoots me an indulgent grin, leaning his head forward to rest against my shoulder.

I finally pull him under the spray to get the shampoo out of his hair and I relax as he returns the favour, and his long agile fingers knead my scalp. This is how life should be. Gently he makes me step under the spray and works at rinsing my hair. I hear him squeeze something out of a bottle and I open my eyes to meet a pair of mischievous blue eyes as Daniel steps forward and begins rubbing the liquid soap all over me. Trust me, he's thorough. I put out my hand to get the soap, but he intercepts it and manoeuvres me up against the stall and he starts moving his body against mine. I get it, I get it. Slipping my arms around his body, I try to hold onto my slippery lover, enjoying the idea of 'sharing' the soap like this.

I still manage to steal the bottle of soap at some point, and pour a fair amount down his back. Oops, guess it was a cold. I swear I'd give him an apology if I could, but seeing his tongue is halfway down my throat at the moment, it's a little difficult. I rub his back as a 'sorry', which he willingly accepts, if the flexing of the muscles under my hands is any indicator.

I let him push me around till I'm facing the wall and he runs his hands down my arms, entwining our fingers, guiding my hands up to brace against the wall. He's leaning against me, his erection rubbing against my ass. It took a long time before I was able to allow him this -- now it's as natural to us as the other way around.

He mumbles a few words in my ear. Yeah, I'm ready and no, there's no need for condoms. We're exclusive and we're clean. God knows we get tested enough. He bites gently into my shoulder and I concentrate on the tingling sensation it leaves behind.

I know he's getting the lube from behind the shampoo and I can't help the sigh as he knees down behind me and I feel his tongue teasing at the small of my back. It's not like I don't know what's coming -- he's done this often enough, though I swear, the first time he stuck his tongue up my ass, I almost hit the ceiling. It took him a lot of sweet talking and making out before he convinced me to let him repeat it. And convince me of how good it was he definitely did. Guess being a linguist gives you a strong, agile tongue.

I've even returned the favour more than a few times and let me tell you, my initial squeamish reaction was worth crucifying for having him flat on his stomach on the bed, alternately pledging his soul to me and cursing me to hell. You wouldn't believe the mouth on that man. First time Ferretti ran into Daniel pre-caffeine, I swear the man tried to hide behind me. Wise move, really, since I was holding a cup of coffee for our dear Doctor and Lou was positive that Daniel was suffering from schizophrenia as he watched the man mellow with each sip.

Right now, though, Daniel's definitely putting his tongue to good use and I've given up a long time ago on trying to keep quiet when he does this. And even if *I'm* noisy, it's nothing compared to how loud he gets when we have sex.

At some point, he stops, stands up and I feel a slick finger pressing lightly against the opening, before easily sliding inside. He chuckles into my ear as I let out another sigh.

"If anyone could see you now, Colonel," he whispers breathlessly into my ear. My only answer is another moan, as on finger is replaced by two. Yeah, I get it, I'm a slut, I know. Daniel goes alpha on me and I wag my tail, roll over, ass in the air, begging for it. You'd never suspect something like this from a USAF Colonel, I know, kinda what keeps me from being court martialed. Good thing Daniel's too honourable to pull those strings when we're on duty. But he loves it when we're not. So do I, to tell the truth. The only time he'll ever refer to me as 'Colonel,' is pre-during-post sex. And mostly when he has the upper hand. I'm beginning to lose my self control as he moves his fingers back and forth, scissoring the opening. He brushes lightly against my prostate and I'm seeing suns, moons and stars. He still hasn't touched my cock, and I know this game. He won't, not until the last possible moment.

Three fingers and I know it won't be long now. As much as he loves prolonging the fun, I also know he's horny as hell in the morning, even when I've taken the edge off with a blow job.

"Ah, Colonel, think we should wipe that... smug grin off your face." His voice is raw and low and even if they're wet, the small hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. God he's good at this, knows exactly how to get me all strung out.

I feel him moving behind me, as my brains threaten to melt, and he leans into me, licking the back of my neck. He bites into the muscle, where neck and shoulder meet as he pushes his cock inside me and in a slow, burning slide; he's buried to the root, panting into my ear.

"Let's hear it, Colonel," Daniel whispers into my ear.

I know he wants me to call his name, but I'll keep it back for as long as possible, and he knows that, as he slowly pulls out, relaxes for a moment before just as slowly, he slides back in. I lean my head back to rest on his shoulder, turn it and I'm rewarded with a slow, sensuous kiss, his tongue mirroring the rhythm with which he's penetrating me. I enjoy the wild monkey sex we often have, but this... this is heaven. Though far too quickly I find myself pressing back for more and his rhythm is becoming faster and more erratic.

His fingers dig into my hips as he rams into me, brushing against my prostate with every move and he knows it.

Finally, his hand slips from my hip to my cock and a few hard jerks from those strong fingers pushes me over the edge and I moan his name as I bit my lower lip. My come hits the tiled wall of the shower stall and I tighten my muscles around Daniel, as he milks the last drops out of me and he loses a throat deep moan, pushing into me on last time before collapsing against me.

We stay like this for a little while, before Daniel carefully pulls out. I turn around and try to tell him how much I love him, and I think I make a fairly valid point when we resurface and he's looking extremely dazed and smug.

"Hi," I whisper against his lips.

"Hi yourself," he mumbles back.

"Sleep well?"

"Mmm, woke better."

I chuckle. "Forgive me for the early hours of a Sunday morning?"

"Mmm, is there more coffee?"

"In the kitchen." I kiss him again.

"Then you're forgiven." His blue eyes are sparkling with all the things that he doesn't have to say.

"Thank you, Dr. Jackson," I say wryly, trying to hide a smile.

"You're welcome, Colonel O'Neill." He rubs his nose against mine. "So... plans?"

I nod. "Plans."

"Good plans?"

"You're gonna love it."

He narrows his eyes for a moment, before brightening and giving me a heart stopping smile. "As long as they involve you and me, I'm game."

That rewards him another looong kiss. Did I mention I'm in love with this guy? Head over heels.

The End