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Title: For The Petulant Gods
Author name: Icarus
Author email: icarus_ancalion@yahoo.com
Category: Slash
Sub Category: Humor
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: Jack and Daniel's, um, stellar sex-life.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and universe contained in this story are Copyright MGM, Showtime, Gekko, Double Secret. No infringement on their copyright is implied. Copyright © 2004 by Icarus Ancalion. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced in whole or part without the author's explicit permission. Ask, guys. I'm easy to reach and usually generous.
Author notes: Unbeta'd, yet again. Written for Petulant God, who complained about unrealistic sex in slash fiction. Here you go.


For The Petulant Gods
By Icarus

Face-first into the comforter and sunk into pillows, Daniel braced his arms to desperately keep his chin up to breathe. Jack's hand gripped his hip with bruising force, his sticky, hairy chest pressed to Daniel's back as he tried again, and pressed - hard - against the crack of Daniel's ass. He slid up it this time. Which… felt good in a way, but wasn't the plan. Daniel winced and tried to spread his knees a little more, wondering if he should say anything, or…?

Probably not. Jack was practically radiating curses and frustration as it was.

With a grunt, Jack rose up higher and gripped Daniel's ass like enemy territory, though Daniel could tell already that that angle wasn't going to work. Daniel's knees skidded on the comforter slightly as he tried to lift up to accommodate. Thighs straining, they connected and Jack tried to force it with no leverage, which had predictable results. Or rather, the lack thereof. Daniel lowered slightly and Jack followed him, one arm scraping Daniel's side as he propped himself up, the warm head of his dick keeping on target. Um. Mostly.

Daniel briefly considered grabbing Jack's dick and aiming for him, except for the pillows, the angle, and the minor fact that he could almost feel Jack's ego deflate with every stroke.

Daniel's eyes widened as Jack actually hit home once; not in, but definitely pressing on the right spot. Daniel's knee shuddered at the odd angle he was spread, but noooo, he wasn't about to change it now. He held very still. Jack panted above him, a hot smothering breath on his shoulder with every stroke, and Daniel did his best to, um, relax and press back.

Right. Jack had a dick the size of a tree trunk. How did women do this?

They didn't take it in the ass, that's how. Not generally anyway. Also the birth canal was designed to accommodate an entire baby, he had seen that with Sha're though this was probably not the time to be thinking about the miracle of birth or Sha're for that matter, because strange thoughts about explaining this to Kasuf flitted across Daniel's mind, 'Yes, I would have no other after your daughter so now I take it up the ass, good father.'

Jack cursed quietly under his breath, squeezed up against Daniel. "C'mon… c'mon…."

Curious how the sphincter was connected to the laugh mechanism, especially when you were trying to smother a laugh because Jack would shoot you in your sleep if you laughed right this second.

"What are you snickering about?"


They fell to their sides, legs tangled together, and Daniel stretched his knee with relief, blanketed between Jack's thighs, enjoying the pleasant tingle of his hair. Jack sighed and rubbed his face.

"You have a dick the size of a tree trunk." Daniel fled to the safest territory. He could tell Jack the Kasuf joke later. At the moment he wouldn't appreciate it.

"I feel like a fucking teenager." Jack groaned and said with a wince at Daniel, "Did that get in at all?"

"Um. A little bit," Daniel lied.

"Didn't think so." Jack heaved a sigh.

Daniel nuzzled closer, Jack's arm warm against his. He reached over and stroked Jack's heavy softening cock and felt Jack open to him and relax. "Hmm…." Jack's voice was low and felt good where Daniel's ear was pressed to his chest. They lay in Daniel's bed contentedly.

"This is nice."


The central air clicked on, ruffling the curtains a bit. Daylight filtered through drawn white sheers.

"I feel like some orange juice," Daniel said to the ceiling.

"Okay," Jack rolled over, pulling the comforter over his shoulder, dark green against his tan, his silver head burrowed into the pillow. "Get me a beer while you're up."

Daniel narrowed his eyes at him, then decided that some pampering would definitely be in order once Jack successfully fucked him. If, rather. It was starting to look like if.

He stumbled out of bed and swiped Jack's comfortable blue robe - trust Jack to come prepared. Then returned with the drinks, a bottle opener in his teeth and a half bag of chips stuffed under an elbow. "Move over," Daniel mumbled, dropping the chips on Jack's knees.

Jack grabbed them and swiped at the bed. "No wonder you always have crumbs in here."

Seconds later, Jack's bottlecap ricocheted off the wall with a ping, landing in the dirty laundry. Daniel was always vaguely impressed he could do that and never tired of watching. Should've brought two bottles.

"Jack," Daniel stole a sip of his beer, just because he could. He sat cross-legged on the bed, elbows on his knees. Jack's robe draped over his shoulders though it had fallen open. "Why are we doing this?"

"Hmm?" Jack paused, fistful of chips halfway to his mouth. He looked… scared suddenly.

"I mean, not us." Jack visibly relaxed. "But what are - we liked what were doing. Why do we have to… try for more?"

Jack raised his eyebrows and didn't answer.

"We were getting off, weren't we? I liked the blowjobs--"

"The handjobs," Jack added with a tip of his head.

"The sixty-nines--"

"Ohh yeah," Jack breathed, a lascivious smile spreading across his face. He stretched and let his arms fall. "But I thought you wanted sex."

"That is sex."

"Here we go. Are we gonna have a conversation about the definition of 'Is' now, too?" Jack said sarcastically.

Daniel huffed a sigh and let his head fall to his hands.

Jack peered at him and leveraged up to a sitting position, piling the pillows behind his back. "We'll get it. It's just gonna take some work, that's all. Even with women I've never done the poop shoot."

Right when he thought he was used to Jack's crudeness, Jack struck a whole new level. Daniel blinked at him, recovering slowly.

"Jack… that's about as erotic as…."

"Well looking at it ain't all that erotic. I mean your ass is, sure. But there? That's where all the brown stuff comes out. It's sort of… stained…"

Daniel winced. "I get it, Jack."

"… after a lifetime of shit, it kinda looks it."

"I get it. Jack. Please." Daniel held up his hand. "There are a lot of gay men who don't have anal sex -"

"Whoa! Gay?!"

"I'm just saying we don't have to." He had Jack's attention and pressed his advantage, quickly. "We don't have to gauge ourselves by some external inapplicable standard that's assigned to straight sex, and there isn't, so far as I know, some sort of rite of initiation that says we aren't officially having sex unless it includes anal penetration."

Daniel paused to catch his breath.

"You done?"

The air conditioning clicked off and Jack rubbed his eyes. "Look. I don't feel like we're having sex unless we're…." He circled his hand meaningfully. "…you know."

Daniel blinked at him. "So, let me get this straight: It doesn't turn you on."

"Not really, no."

"It grosses you out."

Jack nodded. "That's a fair assessment, yeah."

"You can barely even say it, and yet you don't feel like you're having sex unless you're doing it?"

"Yes." Jack stared at him stubbornly.

Daniel let himself drop to the bed sideways, and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling in amazement. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

"We'll get it," Jack assured him.


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