Cappuccino

by Debs

 

EMAIL: Debs

RATING: NC-17 (18 )

PAIRING: Jack and Daniel

WARNINGS: Slash. Consensual M/M sex. Jack’s POV. Bad language.

SUMMARY: Jack and Daniel share a cappuccino in a deserted mall. Sounds innocent enough, but when Jack wants something there's no holding him back

SEASON: Anytime before Jack became a General.

ORIGINAL ARCHIVE:http://www.pepesplace.co.uk/DebsStargatestories.htm

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story came to me one Sunday morning, as I sat drinking a mocha in one of those horrible, ultra-modern shopping malls. How my mind went here, when there were so many screaming children not more than 12 feet away from me, is a real mystery. A huge thank you and lots of sloppy kisses to the lovely Saladscream, for beta-ing this fic and finding all the naff bits before I could embarrass myself in public. Big hugs to Lyn for continuing to host my stories.

 

 

It's official, I’m going to die.

 

Not tomorrow, not next week, not in ten years’ time, but right this fucking minute. How it came to this I’ll never know, I only remember him begging me for coffee. Not asking, begging.

 

‘Please, Jack? Let’s stop for a while, the cappuccinos are great here. Please?’

 

Probably should've bought my first clue right there and then. Daniel begging makes me so frigging hot I can hardly breathe. Granted, he’s not usually begging me for coffee, but I have a really good imagination so I filled in the blanks. What a stupid bastard I turned out to be.

 

Then there's this place; the land that time and good taste forgot. What it was in 1972 before it died and went to God, was a shopping mall. What it is now, God only knows. The aging linoleum under my feet is cracked and chipped, making the cement floor below visible through the crazing. Every second light fixture has blown, casting pools of dark shadows everywhere. Half of the shops are closed, and the other half are going out of business. Construction of some sort or another is taking place at both ends of the ground floor and the smell is just unbelievable. Kinda like a cross between my gran's house and a locker room. Or cabbage cooking. Yeah, that's it, cabbage and dirty, sweaty socks.

 

How Daniel knew the coffee was good here is still a mystery to me. I had my doubts, but you know, begging, so I pulled in and we stopped. So now I’m sitting across the table from him in this godforsaken shopper’s paradise; elevator music drilling into my brain, as the orange Formica on the tabletop slowly sends me blind. Funny, mom always warned me about going blind, but she never mentioned orange Formica.

 

Oh, and did I tell you I'm in agony? My aching legs are so bent outta shape by the crappy plastic chairs that I can barely move.  You’d think the pain would be putting me off, wouldn't you? But this is me, Colonel Jack O'Neill, and I'm never that lucky. Don't get me wrong, I get my lucky breaks when they count the most. Need a quick escape route from a Goa'uld ship to miraculously appear? No problem. Need Carter to flex that freaky brain of hers and come up with a scientific break through to save the world? No problem. Need a distraction so I don't have a hard on the size of a zeppelin in a shopping mall? Forget it. Like I say, this is me.

 

I've been so busy gazing at the tabletop that I've failed to notice Daniel is looking at me, and I start a little. Our eyes meet, and he gives me that 'I'm happy, I've got coffee' grin. God, I love that grin. My treacherous dick gives a little twitch of appreciation and I wonder yet again how the hell I got here. I glance away from him momentarily then look back quickly, sweeping my eyes over the table before settling on the object of my torment. The coffee cup. His coffee cup. It’s sitting between us like the Berlin wall and it's mocking me. I want to tear it down, tell him to stop, but I can’t; I’m too fucking weak.

 

He’s playing with me, I know he is.  His eyes leave me and dart to the Styrofoam cup and I know the little bastard is going to do it again. I'm powerless to intervene, as I watch him take the cup and give it one quick turn in a clockwise direction. He peers into it, inspecting the inside rim before carefully turning it again, his face a mask of concentration. There is nothing I can do or say that will distract him now. Not a thing. Not that I want to; this is easily the most erotic thing I have ever seen Daniel do in a public place.

 

When he finds what he’s been looking for, his face lights up. All smiles, he looks briefly in my direction again, the deep blue of his eyes riveting me to the chair. I smile back; I can’t help it. Like a fucking deer in the headlights, standing there, waiting for the inevitable. What a stupid bastard I am. No really, I am one stupid bastard. I should be yelling at him telling him to cut it out, but I don’t. I can’t. I just keep smiling, my dick now firmly in charge of my meager allocation of brain cells. God knows I don’t have that many left. I blame the Ancients. I’ve had my brain sucked out and put back so many times, is it any wonder I’m obsessed with…other things?

 

Jesus, it's hot in here; when did that happen? It's a fucking heat wave and my hand strays to the neck of my t-shirt, pulling and tugging at it as I try desperately to get some air on my flushed skin.  It occurs to me that someone might be watching, so I do a quick scan to make sure no one is looking at us; well, looking at me actually. I’m the problem, not mister fucking oblivious sitting opposite me. As luck would have it, the place is practically deserted and why doesn't that surprise me?

 

Oh for crying out loud, what now? Crap, he's seen it, clinging to the rim; calling to him. It’s only powdered chocolate, but his eyes devour it with the same amount of lust he reserves for my half hard dick on a lazy Sunday morning. It's all about the challenge and he won’t resist, I know that, and I can’t tear my eyes away from him. So I watch helplessly as he juggles the cup again, tilting it towards himself, before tracing his index finger around the inside edge to harvest his prize. My mouth has dropped open; I can feel the drool pooling behind my lower lip. I’m trying to remember to keep it shut, but I’m way too busy keeping my erection under control. There's no room to move and I shift uncomfortably in my plastic torture chamber, trying desperately to accommodate my aching cock in jeans that have suddenly become two sizes too small.

 

Slowly, Daniel raises his slender chocolate covered finger to his mouth. His lips part and I briefly see the pink interior before his tongue darts out, obliterating the view. Vaporized air that has escaped his hot, moist mouth hangs in the space between us and I am so turned on by it that I'm sure I can feel his tongue ghosting over my hole. Jesus, losing it here, O'Neill! Using just the point of his tongue, Daniel licks the chocolate from the pad of his finger before allowing it to slip back inside that glorious, sensual mouth. My own tongue is restless, and I lick my lips as I watch him roll the tiny morsel around the back of his teeth. The intensity of the pleasure on his face has me squirming in my seat again.  My cock is growing harder by the second and, as I feel the cold metal teeth of my zipper imprinting themselves on my member, I suddenly regret having gone commando today.

 

Once more, Daniel tilts the cup towards himself and that slender, graceful digit returns to the scene of the crime. That talented finger, that in the past has been knuckle deep in my ass, then slides inside his mouth as he sucks down on it. Hard. I’m sure he's going to strip the first three layers of his skin clean away.  The breath I've been holding onto spills out of me in a rush of heated air. God, I wasn't even aware I'd been holding it in. There's a warmth starting to pool in the pit of my stomach. My balls are slowly tightening, fighting my dick for space in the tight confines of the freshly washed denim. That's a battle I could do without!

 

“Will we get Sam’s present next? Jack?”

 

Jesus! He’s talking to me. Fuck, fuck, fuck it.

 

“Yeah, if you want,” I manage to grind out between clenched teeth. My fingers pluck nervously at the denim on my thigh. All I want to do is grab my dick to give myself some relief, but I can't. So I grab the arms of the chair instead and push back in the seat. I'm trying to look casual, to deflect his attention so I can use my thigh to nudge my trapped cock.

 

'Breathe O'Neill, remember to breathe'. More air spills out of me, along with a small cough of discomfort. Okay, didn’t come. Still might though. I can hear the blood thundering in my ears and I know if I don’t get control of this situation right now, things are going to get messy. My eyes slide shut and I replace the image of Daniel’s face with one of Harry Maybourne. Not his face; no, something much worse. He's standing with his back to me, naked except for a black sequined thong riding high between the cheeks of his butt. The saggy, wrinkled flesh of his ass is covered in large, angry pimples and a coarse dark hair is protruding from areas that are best not talked about. Instantly, my erection starts to wilt a little. Sweet! Nothing like having a strategy, I always say; and I allow a small smile to cross my lips as I think about nailing Maybourne, using it as a kind of punishment, until my errant dick decides to behave itself.

 

“Hey Jack, share the joke.”

 

“It’s nothing, Daniel. Finish your coffee.”  ‘Yes, please, get it over with!’

 

An eerie silence falls on us and moments pass as Daniel sits and stares into the empty space of the mall. It's all good for me; as long as that cup is on the table and nowhere near his fucking face, I may just survive this. He’s fingering the empty sugar packages in front of him, toying with the torn openings as I concentrate on ignoring the insistent hardness in my cock and the pleasant feeling of heat spreading through me. He couldn't possibly make anything sexy out of trash, could he? Just in case, I stare out into the mall right along with him. Yep, same crap hole it was ten minutes ago.

 

"Bored, Jack?"  You're kidding me, right?

 

"I don’t think so. You?"

 

"No, no, just thinking about tomorrow. Big day and all.  I'm nearly finished."

 

It's about then that he reaches for that cup again and I know this is never going to end. In the short space of an hour, I've come to understand that hell isn’t a fiery underground cavern filled with horny devils; it’s a fucking strip mall in Colorado with orange Formica tables frequented by horny Colonels. My eyes devour him as he tilts his head back and drinks the remaining coffee in a series of long sensuous swallows. My hand twitches with the overwhelming desire to grab the cup off him and throw it across the floor, but I'm not about to betray my dick - my new lord and master. I can see the pulse in his neck and it's throbbing in time to my own now, as the muscles in his throat gracefully undulate.  My brain is instantly seized by an image of Daniel kneeling at my feet, sucking my cock. Oh for fucksake! I steal a quick glance at my crotch and see the small wet spot that's appeared near the tip of my dick. Frigging marvelous, I'm about to come in my jeans, just frigging marvelous.

 

“Oh, I missed some," he announces, blue eyes flashing.

 

‘Oh for crying out loud! Yes, Daniel, you did. Could ya just leave it where it is? No, you couldn’t do that, could you? Don’t mind me, you go right ahead.’

 

He brings the cup to his lips and that magnificent tongue makes another appearance. This time, he turns the cup towards himself, leaving me to stare at its circular base. The dribbles of coffee that have somehow made their way down the side and pooled underneath have me totally spellbound. It's only a momentary distraction though, because my attention is once more on his tongue as he flattens it and presses it inside, proceeding to rim the cup and sweep it clean.  Perspiration breaks out on my forehead in a rather impressive Pavlovian response.

 

“I told you the coffee was good here, didn’t I? It was worth stopping for, don’t you think?”

 

My eyes drift down to my own half empty cup of coffee. It’s cold and I couldn’t give a shit. Fuck the coffee; all I know is I need to nail Daniel right now. I want to see that look he gets when he has my cock so far up his ass it’s poking the back of his eye sockets. He’s acting clueless but surely to God, he can’t be ignorant of the effect he’s having on me, tormenting little shit.

 

“We could get Sam that book she was talking about the other day. What do you think?”

 

'What do I think? I think you should fucking shut up about Carter, that's what I think.'

 

"Jack? Are you listening to me?"

 

I try to zero in on what he's saying to me, but with little success. All I manage to do his bring his face into sharper focus and I instantly regret it. His lips are pink and slightly swollen from the hot coffee and there’s a smear of chocolate in the corner of his mouth. How does he manage to look so totally fuckable all of the time? My only coherent thought now is how much I want to shove him up against a wall, lick that chocolate off his face, then stick my tongue down his throat and retrieve the rest of it.

 

“Listen Daniel, I have to go to the boys' room.”

 

“Oh, okay. I can wait here,” he replies innocently.

 

“No, no you can’t.” I’m firm; God knows I need to be firm.

 

“I can’t?”

 

“No, Daniel, you can’t. I want you to pass me that newspaper and then I want you to follow me. Would you do that for me?”

 

‘Will you, Daniel? Because if you don’t, we’re both in a frigging lot of trouble here.’

 

“I never took you for a reader, Jack,” he says smiling coyly. Coy? He's doing coy now?

 

“Daniel, just give me the goddamn paper and get up!” Okay, that was military mode but the walls are closing in here.

 

“Jeez Jack, coffee really gets you wired, doesn’t it? No more for you today.” 

 

'What!?''

 

Something in me snaps and I reach out, grab him and shove him roughly to his feet. We’re in a public place and I just laid hands on him. This is madness but I’m lost to rational thought, all I can think of is how tight he's going to feel when I ram into him. As we stand, his eyes travel down to where I’m holding the newspaper in front of my crotch, and I get the first indication that he has finally gotten with the program.

 

“Jack?”

 

“Daniel, so help me, just walk.”

 

He scrambles for the few packages we have in our possession before allowing me to propel him in the direction of the men’s room. I know what I plan to do the minute I get him in there, and my brain is screaming at me to leave it alone. Too goddamn dangerous; too close to home. The heat coming off me is palpable and I know Daniel can feel my skin burning through my long sleeve shirt.

 

The men’s room is down a service corridor and I give up a little thanks to the almighty. Maybe we won’t draw so much attention after all as we play out the cliché I have planned for my lover. I give Daniel another little shove and he looks back at me briefly, a worried look now starting to grace his face.

 

“Jack, this may not be the smartest idea you’ve ever had.”

 

'Ya think?'

 

“Daniel, this is so your fault. Why the hell can’t you drink coffee like other people do?”

 

“Beg your pardon?”

 

At the end of the corridor we reach a junction. To the left is the women’s room and to the right, the men’s. 'Yeah, now we're talking!'  Daniel moves out of my way as I rush passed him and into the doorway, where I almost collide with a cleaning woman lethargically pushing a mop around. As I pull up short, Daniel follows and walks straight into my back, unaware that I’ve stopped. The cleaning woman peers at me, her mop coming to a halt as she looks us up and down.

 

"Closed for cleaning," she says as she turns her back.

 

‘Crap’ I mutter quietly to myself as I turn around and shove Daniel out the door again.

 

“Jack, I told you this wasn’t a good idea. Let’s just go home.”

 

“Shut up."

 

“Shut up?" he mimics.

 

“Yes Daniel, just shut up. How many times do I have to say it?”

 

Re-focusing myself, we hurry back down the corridor and into the open space of the mall. My dick is harder than a diamond drill and it's fucking painful. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Panic is starting to set in.

 

'Have to find somewhere to go, have to have him now!

 

A huge shit eating grin splits my face as I notice the heavy duty plastic hanging down across the entrance way of a shop being renovated. Daniel sees it too and he knows instinctively what I’m planning.

 

"Jaaack, no. What if there are workmen in there?" He's got a point but I'm out of options.

 

"Won't be," I assure him. "Keep moving."

 

Ever have one of those days when you feel like a complete asshole? I know what I'm planning and it feels wrong to use him like this, but I won't be denied, not now. Swings and roundabouts, I tell myself as we arrive at the store front. Trying to play it safe, I quickly check for security cameras, before sticking my head through the opening and then slipping inside the deserted store. Daniel is standing in the mall looking nervous and exposed but I act quickly, and my hand darts out from behind the heavy green plastic, snagging him and dragging him into my den.

 

Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know what's hit him. Swinging him around, I drive into him hard, shoving him backwards against the temporary work bench. We're face to face now, and my leg finds its way between his thighs, thrusting up into his cock so vigorously that he's lifted off his feet. The force of my assault sends a tremor through him that makes him gasp and he turns those glorious eyes on me. In an attempt to slow me down, Daniel presses both of his palms to my chest, pushing me back slightly. Our eyes meet and he reads me like a book as the heat pours out of my soul. Knowing me so well, he knows it's too late and he acquiesces. In a submissive act of surrender, he drops his hands to the workbench and leans back slightly waiting for me to take the initiative.

 

Christ, the sight of him standing there like that is so fucking hot that I push my thigh into his cock for a second time. His soft moan causes my dick to twitch and I swoop in on him again, grabbing his face between both of my hands. I'm holding on too tightly and it's hurting him but I'm out of control. Flattening my tongue, I start by licking a long, sensuous trail across the corner of his mouth and over his lips. God, it's like nirvana; a chocolate flavored Daniel. The smell of coffee assails me next, and I slam my tongue into his mouth and rake my way around the inside. Like a wild animal, I grunt, push, bite and suck at him.  My cock is rigid and my balls are so full that I can’t afford to give him the time to catch me up. He’s about to be fucked, ready or not.

 

“Wait," he says breathlessly, pushing back on me again.

 

"Can't..." I mutter; it's all I can manage before pouncing on him, clawing at him, trying to get him naked with very little success.

 

“Jack, slow down, tell me what you need. What do you want me to do?”

 

“Pants.” I hardly recognize my own voice, coarsened by the want and need I’ve been fighting for the last hour.

 

Daniel steps forward a little and dutifully shrugs off his pants. Not down, but off, and my cock starts to weep, responding to the stimulus like a well trained dog. Daniel's impressive dick is heavy and pendulous and as my eyes rove over it, my tongue sweeps my lips in anticipation.  I start fumbling with my own trousers unsuccessfully before Daniel steps forward and slaps my hands away.

 

“Let me,” he says. He opens my fly and glides his hands down the outside of my legs taking my jeans to my feet. I toe both of my shoes off and kick them aside. As I step out of my trousers, Daniel flicks them away before returning his attention to my cock. In the harsh glare of the artificial fluorescent lighting, it looks swollen and rigid, pre cum moistening the tip. I'm certain that Daniel wants to suck my cock, but that's not what I have in mind. Before he has a chance to do any more, I drag him back to his feet and slam him back up against the workbench.

 

“Daniel, no time,” I grunt.

 

Totally in tune with me, he turns to face the workbench, draping himself over the edge. The tension is killing me and my entire body is slick with sweat. When Daniel steps back a little and spreads his legs wide for me, I think I'm going to spontaneously combust. The sight of his gorgeous bare ass sends me into a tail spin and I rush at him, pulling his cheeks apart and pressing my hard cock against his hole. I'm so excited that I'm managing to do little more than jab at him, my hands flailing about and my dick consistently missing the target. Fuck! The frustration is killing me and without lubrication the going is even tougher. My lack of finesse is unbelievable and when Daniel finally yelps, I know I have to stop.

 

“Spit into your hand, Jack.”

 

“No, that won’t do, need more,” I mewl, as my hips continue to thrust forward despite the set back.

 

“Wait!” Daniel hisses as he grabs for something on the wooden bench top. Christ, it's a jar of Vaseline! Where the hell did that come from? There are tools on the workbench as well, and it makes sense to me, now. Old guys use Vaseline to condition their tools. Suddenly, I'm back in the garage of our old house and my dad is rubbing Vaseline into the cool metal surface of his tree saw. Those old guys knew what was what and I am so freaking grateful. I’ll never malign an old timer again. Fumbling, I snatch up the jar, screw the cap off and coat my dick in the cool, soothing gel. Daniel joins me, and plunges his fingers into the jar and smears a generous dollop inside his tight hole.

 

'Jesus, enough already!'

 

This time, Daniel guides me and with one quick push and a grunt, I slip inside of him and start pumping furiously. I'm loosing traction on the aging linoleum as my socks slip back and forth in time to my thrusting, but not even that can halt my assault on Daniel's ass. I've waited too long for this and my dick is burning. It’s absolute agony. I'm so focused I barely hear Daniel groaning as I slam into him hard and fast, again and again and again. A thin trickle of perspiration rolls down my face as I ride my lover's ass mercilessly. Daniel's hand has snaked around my back, pulling me towards him. He's digging his nails into my butt and the pain is delicious.

 

'God, so close, so close.. just a little more...'

 

The pleasure and the pain are so intertwined now that my need to come is way beyond the point of comfort. My hand strays down to my balls and I cup them and start squeezing hard.

 

"Arrrghh.."

 

And suddenly, I'm there.

 

Flashes of brilliant white light play behind my eyes as I come hard into Daniel. My mouth slips into autopilot and I call his name a dozen times or more as I ride out my orgasm.  It seems to go on forever as I'm twitching and bucking and straining to get the very last drop of my come into him, enjoying the delicious feeling of release that goes with it. The fire in my belly is being replaced by a tingling that’s spreading throughout my entire body. My arms and legs suddenly feel heavy and useless as I begin my inevitable slump downwards, coming to rest on Daniel's broad back.

 

"Hey, Jack, don't pass out on me, we've got to get moving. Jack, do you hear me?"

 

Daniel pulls forward a little, but I clutch at him, stopping him. I don't want to leave him, not yet.

 

"Jesus Daniel, take it slow, I'm not ready." Daniel halts his retreat, but it's only a momentary delay.

 

"Tough, Jack. Try."

 

A moment’s concentration is all it takes, and I suddenly find myself out in the brutally cold air of the disused shop. I wanted to savor my orgasm but the danger we're both in continues to escalate the longer we stay here. Daniel gathers his wits quickly and scurries around collecting our clothes and packages. When he turns to face me again I realize with some degree of guilt, that he didn't have an orgasm. His cock is still semi-rigid and it looks downright painful. We pull our clothes on quietly and I watch him as he carefully eases his underwear and jeans over his swollen dick.

 

"I'm sorry," I mutter stupidly as I finish dressing.

 

"For what?"

 

"For using you and leaving you like THAT," I say as I wave my hand in the general direction of his groin.

 

"Well, it's not like it was your fault or anything."

 

He says it so conversationally that I almost miss the importance of it. The light goes on in my head and for a moment I'm speechless.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"God, Jack, you're so easy."

 

"Daniel, you little bastard; I knew it! What the hell were you playing at?"

 

"Looking after myself for a change. You know, I thought I'd get you a little aroused and then we could go home for a nice leisurely fuck in the privacy of our own home. Instead you get so fucking rigid we need to sort you out in a public place. Very nice. What happened to your military training, Jack? I thought you were supposed to be able to withstand all sorts of torture?"

 

"Guess I was away the day they covered 'how not to fuck your lover in a public place when he insists on drinking coffee like a slut.'"

 

After a few seconds of glaring at each other in a kind of testosterone induced Mexican stand off, we head over to the edge of the plastic curtain and I carefully stick my head outside for a quick threat assessment. It's as deserted as it was when we went in, and I thank God that we're here and not at the Briargate Mall. As Daniel moves forward, I grab his arm. He's still hot and sweaty, and my dick manages a little surge of interest. Christ, I'm a fucking machine! Still, I feel guilty about the afternoon's events, even if it was probably the best fuck I've had with Daniel. The long and drawn out foreplay, the danger and the roughness of it was amazing.

 

"Wait," I call to him as my arm snaps out to grab him. "Umm, thanks." It's clumsy and inadequate, but I mean it.

 

"Don't thank me yet, flyboy." Daniel's voice is low and earthy and I sense that he's about to renew his tormenting ways.

 

Once I'm happy we're safe, we push out into the mall and start to make our way to the overgrown car park outside. As we amble along, Daniel leans into my ear, his hot breath playing over my skin.

 

"When we get home you'll have to do penance for your sins," he insists, his damp hair framing his forehead. Jesus, how could I be thinking about nailing him again already?

 

"Oh, really? Do tell?” My eyebrows arch skyward as I meet his half lidded eyes.

 

"First, you'll prepare the bathroom. Lots of those scented candles you bought me at Christmas. Then, I want fresh towels on the towel warmer. You'll lay out my robe and clean underwear, and then you'll take your clothes off. You'll undress me, slowly, after which, you will join me in the shower where you will spend the entire time on your knees sucking my cock. After I have come at least twice, you will carefully cleanse my body from head to toe. When it's time for me to leave the shower, I'll expect you to towel me off and rub my body all over with aromatic massage oils. Do you think you can manage that, flyboy?"

 

In the midst of his torment, Daniel suddenly stops in his tracks long enough for me to steal a quick look across at him. He's riveted to the spot and I close the small gap between us and lean into his ear, mimicking his filthy guttural tone.

 

"For a smart guy, Dr Jackson, you just made a terrible miscalculation. If I'm not mistaken, that's your fantasy, not mine."

 

Pushing by him on my way to the door, I pause only briefly to look back over my shoulder at him. He's still standing there, bent slightly in the middle, our packages covering his groin.

 

"Jack. Jack, wait, don't go. Jack. JACK!"

 

I'll just give him a few minutes and then I'll go back for him. That'll teach him. Too damn easy, my ass!

 

Fin

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