Entry tags:
Fic: Make it Work [Sam/Jack; Stargate SG-1; PG-13]
God, I've done more writing in one week on bedrest than I have in four years. This is actually not selfish though, as it is written for my darling
snowbunny22 who has had a bit of a rough time lately and I thought she could use some cheering up. While I don't presume to write Jack as well as she does, I do try, and I hope you can get some laughs out of this, honey.
Title: Make It Work
Author:
sheikah
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Rating: PG-13. No actual sex, I'm afraid, but not for lack of trying.
Notes: Set during S10 at some point, maybe later.
“We’re too old for this.”
Didn’t seem to matter ten minutes ago when Carter had tossed her cards down (royal flush, of course) and grinned her smug little grin and went to collect her winnings. Jack was never playing poker with her again and really, he should have listened when Daniel and Vala and even Mitchell had warned him off that particular idea but they were up at the cabin and had three consecutive days in the same galaxy so Jack had decided to take his chances.
He thought she’d ask for something easy, like a back massage or a pedicure or something easily fulfilled. Not…how’d she put it? Pounding hot sex under pounding hot water? Jack didn’t really remember but it was something distinctly unCarterlike that only came out to play here at the cabin and not at her house back in Colorado or his apartment in Washington.
“I can make it work, sir.”
Jack groaned. His back was already screaming at him and Carter’s prior attempts to “make it work” had made him pretty sure he was going to need surgery but if there was one thing he was wary of, it was cutting Carter off mid-idea. She’d just get whiny and unfulfilled and he’d spend the rest of his three day vacation watching her draw designs for some sort of kinky sex harness to put in the shower to facilitate making it work. Efficiently. Jack was just grateful Carter was a physicist and an engineer and left all the medical stuff to Lam because otherwise he was fairly certain she’d have made him more efficient.
She did a particularly acrobatic thing where she flipped them so he was pinning her against the wall of the shower and she had her leg hiked up so high that she almost had her heel on his shoulder. And considering how tall he was, Jack was pretty sure that broke about three laws of physics and he had to wonder just what Carter’s imagination had come up with in the past eight years or so to think this was even remotely workable. Still, she seemed to like it and as long as it was her in pain and not him, he was willing to go with it.
He swallowed and twisted a hand down between them to gauge just how ready she was (not ready enough, in spite of all her enthusiastic gymnastics) and tried to get enough leverage between them so he could at least get her off if he couldn’t actually do the deed in here like she’d asked (more like demanded, but semantics) but apparently that shift in his shoulder and hips changed the line of his body and she slid, ass losing traction on soap-slick tiles and the crack as her head knocked against the lip of the tub was enough to make Jack wince and forget about the bad knee as he went diving down after her.
“I’m fine, sir. Just seeing stars.”
Jack twisted slightly and turned off the water, any arousal he might have had lingering truly and thoroughly gone at the idea that Carter might actually have hurt herself in her little escapades. He touched his fingers gingerly against her scalp and felt the beginnings of a bump but no harm and no foul. He held up two fingers and she rolled her eyes, gave him the correct response and tried to stand on decidedly-shaky legs.
Jack half-smiled at that and wrapped an arm snugly around her waist, supporting her gently as he walked both of them out of the shower and the fifteen steps or so back to the bedroom. Jack wished like hell they were at his place in Washington with the really nice orthopedic mattress but instead he was going to have to make do with the lumpy springed bed he had at the cabin whose only redeeming quality was the fact that it was so damn big.
Jack laid her down in the bed and curled beside her, all thoughts of getting kinky with Carter thrown away for a day when every muscle in his body wasn’t protesting being twisted 180 degrees. She seemed to have tossed the idea out as well, snuggling down into the blankets and twisting the sheets so they covered her breasts. She was fidgety and Jack was pretty sure it had to do with the failed shower sex so he propped on one elbow and watched her, trying to silently goad her into talking.
“I’m not expecting a porn star performance every time, Sam. I promise. I’m just happy you let me see you naked and touch your boobs sometimes. I’m easy to please, believe me.”
Carter huffed slightly and what had been an amused look melted into something else, something that laid bare old insecurities and fantasies torn asunder. Sex was too new for them to really have an easy way with it like they did everything else and if Jack knew anything about Carter it was that she was a perfectionist. And apparently she was a perfectionist about sex just like she was about everything else. Typical. Figured. Still, Jack didn’t mind reassuring her. Not one bit.
She sighed and he ruffled a hand through her hair. They wouldn’t really talk about it, so he reached over and flicked off the bedroom lamp and curled around her, lips touching lightly against the nape of her neck and arm snagging around her waist to hold her close. Carter had a tendency to worm away during the night but he at least started out trying to cuddle with her. He liked cuddling, actually, even if it stifled her and he appreciated that she put forth the effort to try.
“I just really, really wanted to impress you, Jack. I wanted to show you that I can be that flirty, sexy woman that you seem to like.”
Her voice was soft and unsure and Jack couldn’t help but laugh, muffling his snickers against the soft skin of her shoulder. He shouldn’t be laughing, not when she’d had that soft, little girl lost tone in her voice but did Carter honestly think that he cared about how good she was in bed? Most of the time he was okay to go for five minutes in missionary and roll over to watch hockey; really, not hard to please. And she’d always seemed to like anything he came up with for them, so he didn’t think that it was Carter was bored with them. She was just…a perfectionist.
“I like you just like you are, Sam. I don’t need you to throw your leg over my shoulder and have me begging to write Penthouse about my exploits. Just you. That’s enough. Always has been, actually.”
He punctuated it by kissing between her jaw and ear, just a hint of teasing and longing and heat and rested against her, content to drift off to sleep with dreams of a backrub laced with Ben Gay come morning. Maybe he could even con Carter into doing it for him if he woke her up the right way.
“Oh, and Carter?”
She snuffled a little by way of response, a sound only made halfway between sleep and wakefulness and it was enough of an affirmative that he kept going.
“Don’t call me ‘sir’ when we’re doing it. Makes me feel old.”
She giggled lightly, limbs relaxing with the laughter in the way that Jack had intended. Good. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so bad about this after all.
“You are, in fact, old.”
Oh she was so getting it next time. Really. But Jack was too amused and too achy to really come up with a quip so she got the last word.
This time.
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Title: Make It Work
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Rating: PG-13. No actual sex, I'm afraid, but not for lack of trying.
Notes: Set during S10 at some point, maybe later.
“We’re too old for this.”
Didn’t seem to matter ten minutes ago when Carter had tossed her cards down (royal flush, of course) and grinned her smug little grin and went to collect her winnings. Jack was never playing poker with her again and really, he should have listened when Daniel and Vala and even Mitchell had warned him off that particular idea but they were up at the cabin and had three consecutive days in the same galaxy so Jack had decided to take his chances.
He thought she’d ask for something easy, like a back massage or a pedicure or something easily fulfilled. Not…how’d she put it? Pounding hot sex under pounding hot water? Jack didn’t really remember but it was something distinctly unCarterlike that only came out to play here at the cabin and not at her house back in Colorado or his apartment in Washington.
“I can make it work, sir.”
Jack groaned. His back was already screaming at him and Carter’s prior attempts to “make it work” had made him pretty sure he was going to need surgery but if there was one thing he was wary of, it was cutting Carter off mid-idea. She’d just get whiny and unfulfilled and he’d spend the rest of his three day vacation watching her draw designs for some sort of kinky sex harness to put in the shower to facilitate making it work. Efficiently. Jack was just grateful Carter was a physicist and an engineer and left all the medical stuff to Lam because otherwise he was fairly certain she’d have made him more efficient.
She did a particularly acrobatic thing where she flipped them so he was pinning her against the wall of the shower and she had her leg hiked up so high that she almost had her heel on his shoulder. And considering how tall he was, Jack was pretty sure that broke about three laws of physics and he had to wonder just what Carter’s imagination had come up with in the past eight years or so to think this was even remotely workable. Still, she seemed to like it and as long as it was her in pain and not him, he was willing to go with it.
He swallowed and twisted a hand down between them to gauge just how ready she was (not ready enough, in spite of all her enthusiastic gymnastics) and tried to get enough leverage between them so he could at least get her off if he couldn’t actually do the deed in here like she’d asked (more like demanded, but semantics) but apparently that shift in his shoulder and hips changed the line of his body and she slid, ass losing traction on soap-slick tiles and the crack as her head knocked against the lip of the tub was enough to make Jack wince and forget about the bad knee as he went diving down after her.
“I’m fine, sir. Just seeing stars.”
Jack twisted slightly and turned off the water, any arousal he might have had lingering truly and thoroughly gone at the idea that Carter might actually have hurt herself in her little escapades. He touched his fingers gingerly against her scalp and felt the beginnings of a bump but no harm and no foul. He held up two fingers and she rolled her eyes, gave him the correct response and tried to stand on decidedly-shaky legs.
Jack half-smiled at that and wrapped an arm snugly around her waist, supporting her gently as he walked both of them out of the shower and the fifteen steps or so back to the bedroom. Jack wished like hell they were at his place in Washington with the really nice orthopedic mattress but instead he was going to have to make do with the lumpy springed bed he had at the cabin whose only redeeming quality was the fact that it was so damn big.
Jack laid her down in the bed and curled beside her, all thoughts of getting kinky with Carter thrown away for a day when every muscle in his body wasn’t protesting being twisted 180 degrees. She seemed to have tossed the idea out as well, snuggling down into the blankets and twisting the sheets so they covered her breasts. She was fidgety and Jack was pretty sure it had to do with the failed shower sex so he propped on one elbow and watched her, trying to silently goad her into talking.
“I’m not expecting a porn star performance every time, Sam. I promise. I’m just happy you let me see you naked and touch your boobs sometimes. I’m easy to please, believe me.”
Carter huffed slightly and what had been an amused look melted into something else, something that laid bare old insecurities and fantasies torn asunder. Sex was too new for them to really have an easy way with it like they did everything else and if Jack knew anything about Carter it was that she was a perfectionist. And apparently she was a perfectionist about sex just like she was about everything else. Typical. Figured. Still, Jack didn’t mind reassuring her. Not one bit.
She sighed and he ruffled a hand through her hair. They wouldn’t really talk about it, so he reached over and flicked off the bedroom lamp and curled around her, lips touching lightly against the nape of her neck and arm snagging around her waist to hold her close. Carter had a tendency to worm away during the night but he at least started out trying to cuddle with her. He liked cuddling, actually, even if it stifled her and he appreciated that she put forth the effort to try.
“I just really, really wanted to impress you, Jack. I wanted to show you that I can be that flirty, sexy woman that you seem to like.”
Her voice was soft and unsure and Jack couldn’t help but laugh, muffling his snickers against the soft skin of her shoulder. He shouldn’t be laughing, not when she’d had that soft, little girl lost tone in her voice but did Carter honestly think that he cared about how good she was in bed? Most of the time he was okay to go for five minutes in missionary and roll over to watch hockey; really, not hard to please. And she’d always seemed to like anything he came up with for them, so he didn’t think that it was Carter was bored with them. She was just…a perfectionist.
“I like you just like you are, Sam. I don’t need you to throw your leg over my shoulder and have me begging to write Penthouse about my exploits. Just you. That’s enough. Always has been, actually.”
He punctuated it by kissing between her jaw and ear, just a hint of teasing and longing and heat and rested against her, content to drift off to sleep with dreams of a backrub laced with Ben Gay come morning. Maybe he could even con Carter into doing it for him if he woke her up the right way.
“Oh, and Carter?”
She snuffled a little by way of response, a sound only made halfway between sleep and wakefulness and it was enough of an affirmative that he kept going.
“Don’t call me ‘sir’ when we’re doing it. Makes me feel old.”
She giggled lightly, limbs relaxing with the laughter in the way that Jack had intended. Good. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so bad about this after all.
“You are, in fact, old.”
Oh she was so getting it next time. Really. But Jack was too amused and too achy to really come up with a quip so she got the last word.
This time.
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Ohai - I can haz tiny car, lets try doing it in the drivers seat! >.>
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*dies and is dead.*
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