Making Up For It by Rosalita
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Category: Jack/Daniel
Genres: Established Relationship, Humor, Missing Scene/Episode-Related
Rated: Adult
Warnings: None
Series: None
Summary: Jack makes it up to Daniel in a very pleasant way. Episode tag for Lockdown.

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"What's the occasion?" I asked when I spied Jack's dining room table.

It was clean and set for dinner. I didn't know Jack owned a set of matching dishes, let alone wine glasses. He'd even bought flowers and placed them in a crystal vase in the middle of the table.

Jack was standing at the stove, checking on something that smelled Italian. Ass pointed in my direction, his head was in the oven and his voice was muffled as he spoke. "As you've taken every opportunity to remind me for the past week, I shot you. I thought I'd make it up to you."

"By cooking?" I said, pushing down the wave of lust that hit me as I stared at Jack's ass. "Haven't I suffered enough?"

Jack turned around, giving me a 'ha ha ha' look. Then he told me to sit down and shut up.

So I did. A bottle of my favorite wine was on the table, which Jack had thoughtfully uncorked for me. To tell the truth, after a week of lockdown, the only thing I'd been thinking about when I knocked on Jack's house was a bout of hot, sweaty sex. But if Jack wanted to wine and dine me before fucking me through the nearest available surface, I'd let him.

Jack was quite a cook and dinner was excellent, featuring a flavorful lasagna made, Jack said, from his grandmother's recipe from the old country.

"Your family is Irish, Jack," I reminded him.

"My grandmother's second husband was Italian. Her third husband was Greek. I can't remember where the fourth guy was from, but Dimitri? That man made a mean souvlaki."

"Quite the globetrotter, your grandmother."

"Nana was a merchant sailor. Had a man in every port." He winked at me and poured the remainder of the wine in my glass.

Sexy bastard. "Are you trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?" I asked hopefully.

He snorted loudly and implied that I was easy with a rude "As if."

He was so right. I shrugged and drained the glass.

Jack refused my help and left me stewing in my own juices, so to speak, while he took his time clearing the table and cleaning up. I, however, was ready for dessert.

Jack was washing the lasagna pan when I sidled up behind him and took his ear between my teeth and tugged. By the time I dragged my tongue down his throat he'd dropped the pan and turned in my arms.


"Mmm?" I murmured, still mouthing at his throat.

"Where's your - " He gasped when I nipped at soft spot beneath his adam's apple. "- sling?"

I grinned into the little vee of skin at the top of his shirt. "Dr. Brightman told me I could take it off this morning."

He pushed me back gently. "And you wore it all day . . ."

"To milk the sympathy for all it was worth."

"Bastard," he said, but there was admiration in his eyes.

"Easier to keep reminding you that you shot me when I had visible evidence." He started to say something, and I took advantage of his open mouth by pushing my tongue into it. God, his mouth was hot. He sucked on my tongue hard and shoved his leg right up against my crotch. I was hard already and moving against him. Jesus, one kiss and I was humping his leg. If he didn't stop sucking on my tongue, I was going to come in my pants. I pulled away, panting. "I believe you said something about making it up to me?"

"What, dinner wasn't enough?"

"Not even close, flyboy." I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the bedroom.

As soon as we cleared the bedroom door, Jack took control and I found myself flat on the bed, looking up at Jack, who was wearing a predatory grin. Straddling me, he unbuttoned his shirt, taking it off with a flourish and tossing it on the floor. I took the opportunity to run my hand over his chest, carding through the hair there and stroking a nipple.

He groaned, but my caresses didn't stop him from noticing that I was only using one hand.

"Arm hurt?"

"No, it's fine."



"Does your arm hurt?" he asked again in a tone that said he wouldn't listen to any bullshit.

"A little, " I admitted.

"So, I guess doggie style is out of the question then."

That's my Jack, so romantic.

He slid over me and slowing unbuttoned my shirt. "I can do slow and gentle," he said, punctuating each word with a kiss to my chest, which he was unveiling.

"No," I said on a moan when Jack reached my navel and pushed his tongue in. "I want it hard."

"Not this time." He motioned me up so he could remove my shirt. "When your arm heals, I'll fuck you so hard, you'll be walking funny for a week. How's that?"


Chuckling, he laid next to me and pulled me to him. "You're a sick man, Dr. Jackson."

He pressed a soft kiss to the healing wound on my shoulder. I pushed my fingers into his soft hair when he did it again. I tugged until he lifted his head so I could look at him. God, but he's handsome. Tall and lean and rugged. All angles and lines with soft chocolate eyes staring out of a face that told of his experience. The silver hair topped it all off and added to the package that included a sarcastic manner that belied the warmth of the man within.


Jack would laugh if he knew I was waxing poetic over him so I just shook my head and kissed him, sliding my hand down to stroke him through his jeans. Gasping into my mouth, he pushed against my hand. Using both hands now and not caring that it made my shoulder hurt, I unbuttoned his pants and lifted his cock out. He sighed and wriggled out of his pants while I admired the flesh I held in my hand. It was long and lean, just like the rest of him. I rubbed my thumb over the wet head before leaning over and running my tongue over it. I took my time, lapping at him and darting my tongue into the slit because Jack really likes that.

He proved it with a jerky moan and I looked up at him again, taking in his closed eyes and slightly heaving chest before I closed my lips over the tip of his cock and sucked gently. Slowly, I took his entire length, pausing to lick, kiss and nibble on my way down. As I worked my way back up, he was tremblin and on the verge of coming. My own dick was aching, and I wanted nothing more than to have him inside me, but he'd wanted slow, and he was going to get it. Even if it killed us both.

Not wanting things to end just yet, I pulled off him and rubbed his thigh, giving him time to come down. As much as I wanted to get Jack off this way, I also wanted to get fucked. If Jack came now, it would be a while before he was ready again, and I'd surely die of my arousal long before then.

His breathing slowing down, he peered at me from under the arm he had thrown over his eyes. "Why are you still wearing pants? Take them off."

I stood beside the bed and slid my pants off, sighing in relief and trying not to let him see me wince as my arm twinged. I might regret using it this much later, but I doubt it. Especially when Jack was looking at me with a particularly wolflike expression.

"Grab the lube," he said.

I bit back a moan at his words. "I'm not finished with you yet."

"Yes, you are. Touch my dick again and it will be all over."

"I was going to rim you."


"Later then?" I said, feeling the smug look on my face. I got the lube out of the drawer and climbed back on the bed.

Jack grabbed the tube from me and ordered me onto my back. Being the kind of order I liked to obey, I did so with no hesitation.

He shoved a pillow under me and squeezed the lube onto his fingers, leering at me the whole time. Finally, he moved between my legs. Pushing my thighs wide, he bent down to kiss my balls and at the same time he pushed one finger inside me. I gasped and reached down to touch myself wanting nothing more than to relieve the wonderful aching, but was stopped.

"Don't touch that," Jack warned and pushed in a second finger. I groaned in frustration, but put my hand down and twisted both of them into the sheets. Jack was really working me now. His fingers plunged in and out, twisting and rotating. It felt so damned good, but I knew what would feel even better.

"Jack, please." My voice rose a couple of registers when his fingers hit my prostate. And hit it again. And again. "Jesus," I whispered and pushed against his fingers, fucking myself on them, moaning at the sharp pleasure that zipped through my body .

Jack pulled his fingers out and slicked up his dick while I bitched at him to hurry. Finally, he was pressing against my ass and sliding inside. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in all the way. He slid all the way in and then pulled out, repeating the action over and over again until we were both nothing more than moaning, sweaty messes. In his excitement, he must have forgotten to take it slow because he was really pounding me. And that was fine with me. More than fine, in fact.

He was stretching me, filling me, his cock sliding along the flesh inside me, the pleasure burning up my spine, heat in my belly, my balls. I tightened down on him, pushed myself against him hard and came, the liquid heat of it splashing across my belly.

Jack's eyes opened wide and his thrusts lost their rhythm and he was coming, moving wildly before stilling, then collapsing on top of me.

We laid there, panting and holding one another for several minutes before Jack kissed me sloppily.

"So," he drawled looking down at me, "have I made it up to you yet?"

"Well, it's a start." I was busy thinking about all the different ways Jack could make it up to me.

"I'll never hear the end of this, will I?"

I pretended to consider this. "Probably not."

With a grimace, he rolled off me and sat up against the headboard. "I suppose I'll have to service you sexually, be at your beck and call, and cater to your every whim until you decide I've made up for it?"

I rolled over and petted his spent cock, giving the tip a quick kiss before grinning up at him. "You did shoot me," I said, my tone giving him an idea of just how hard he was going to have to work to even begin to make it up to me. "So yeah, catering to my every whim would be a good thing."

He sighed, then patted my ass, a lascivious smile lighting up his face. "Okay, works for me."

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