A Sense of Being

Pairing: Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson
Category: drabble collection, Sensuality, Sensual Play, Established Relationship
Rating: R
Summary: A play of the senses in six acts.
Notes: I wanted to take a stroll through the senses so each part is made up of a drabble. Exactly 100 words, no more, no less.
Written as a Christmas present to the Heartsisters and the supportive people on Livejournal.


The heart under his ear is beating double time. Not from fear or anxiety, but from the same kind of need and want that's driving Daniel's heart in a complementary beat.

He can hear the raspy breathing as air is pulled into the lungs in the body under him, making it rise and fall, lifting Daniel's body up with it, cushioning him down as the air is expelled.

The muttered noises, grunts more than words really, fill his ears, joining the other sounds, pushing Daniel's need to a different, higher level.


His own name whispered as a quiet benediction.


The skin under his is warm and slippery with sweat, their combined movements making their bodies slide against each other.

It never ceases to amaze him how well they fit together, how responsive they are to each other's touches, caresses, subtle or... less than subtle.

Daniel runs his fingers along Jack's side, down around his stomach where the muscles tighten with each shallow thrust that Daniel makes.

Jack's body beckons him, pulls him in and where they are joined Daniel feels himself burning brightly. Their movements are unhurried. The feel of skin against skin is the most important aspect ever.


The taste of the skin at the nape of Jack's neck, just below the sweaty, darkened grey hair, is driving Daniel to distraction. It's downright addictive. The sheen of sweat covering the skin is salty and mixed with a myriad of subtle flavors.

A hint of soap from their earlier, shared shower.

A familiar flavor of Jack's clean sweat bursts over his tongue. A faint, faint touch of the strong chili con carne they ate last night mixes itself with a myriad of other fantastic tastes.

Yeah, it's definitely addictive, but Daniel's not planning on kicking this habit anytime soon.


Sweat glistens in the light from the lamp on the bedside table. Daniel's eyes lovingly follow the dip and rise of shoulders and neck, though he already knows every rise and fall by heart, every scar, visible as neigh invisible. He knows it all by heart.

He marvels at the stretch of muscles and damp skin as Jack lets his head hang down, exposing the back of his neck to Daniel, like some wild beast surrendering to a superior opponent.

Daniel accepted Jack's surrender long ago, as Jack had accepted his. They are equals, in bed as well as outside.


The scent of sex, sweat and musk fills Daniel's nose as he inhales deeply, trying to steady his shallow thrusts. They've been at it for what feels like ages, yet he knows that Jack, as well as himself, want it to last even longer.

Preferably forever.

It's a heady smell that permeates Daniel's olfactory senses. He knows that come morning, they'll stink, they'll need a shower, but right now? There is nothing that can arouse him more than their mingled scents.

Daniel buries his face in the hollow between Jack's shoulder blades, inhaling deeply, letting the smells wash over him.


Daniel's eyes are closed, his mind no longer thinking in its ordered ways, high speed fact-gathering. Actually, he's not thinking at all.

Each of his movements, each of Jack's, are not processed by their minds, they simply are. The kind of perfect unison that one can only dream about.

It's taken time and effort to get this far, but as Daniel lets go, lets his senses and awareness of Jack lead him, he knows just how right it is.

It takes no high IQ nor a PhD or two. Not even navigational prowess.

It takes letting go... trusting your senses.

The End