Chapter Text
There were a lot of things about the universe that Samantha Carter knew.
Like how wormholes worked and how stars formed. How the smell of freshly baked bread could take her back to those moments spent in the kitchen with her mother when she was a kid…
But there was one thing above all that Samantha Carter was more sure of than the rest.
And that was that Jack O’Neill fucked.
She didn’t know how she knew it, of course. That was one of the many lines they’d never allowed themselves to cross over the years, but there was something about the way he’d always carried himself that made her more sure about that particular fact that she was about the theory of relativity.
And sometimes she liked to think about it. Like late at night after a particularly hard mission when she didn’t want to think anymore, and she thought about calling him up to see if he was still awake…
Wanted to know if he’d come to her still if she called.
If he’d let himself in with his spare key, and how he’d be half undressed by the time he made it to her bedroom where he’d find her already aching and needy and soaking wet for him.
Sometimes the fantasy would have him taking his time, would have him lingering over the dips and curves of her body, driving her slowly higher with each lingering pass of his tongue against her skin until he finally, finally allowed her her release.
Other times, though, she liked to imagine that he’d dive right in, that he’d pin her hands over her head and shove his cock into her hard enough to make her see stars, that the furiousness of their fucking would cause her headboard to dent the wall behind it, that he’d fuck her over and over until the only thing she could remember was his name.
And then there were those quiet handful of moments where she allowed herself to imagine going to him instead, letting herself into his home and finding him already in bed where she’d carefully tie him to the headboard so she could worship the column of his neck with her lips and tongue, when she would drift lower to show him just what else her mouth could do.
Normally, those were private thoughts she kept to the confines of her bed.
They were not thoughts she allowed herself to have at three o’clock in the morning when she was in her lab trying to get caught up on some work.
But he’d started it.
He’d been running late getting out of the shower in the locker room, and she’d walked in on him half dressed, that glorious neck and those damn perfect hands and the peek of a hipbone sticking out of the top of his jeans on full display as he apologized and quickly moved to throw a t-shirt on.
But she’d wanted to lick him. Wanted to pin him against the locker like she had all those years ago when she’d been succumbing to an alien virus and show him just how much more she meant it now.
So here she was, thinking about it, at three o’clock in the morning in her lab as she tried to get caught up on her work.
Just when she thought about retiring to her base quarters and taking care of the problem, the problem in question strolled through the doorway, looking like Sin Incarnate.
“Didn’t I order you to go home and get some rest, Carter?”
Her eyes took in the way his white t-shirt made the tan of his skin stand out, reminding her of the sweat she’d seen roll down his neck just a few days previously when they’d been off-world on another desert planet.
Took in the ways his hands were fisted in the pockets of his jeans, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he rocked back and forth on his heels.
She had the urge to lick him again and to not stop until the only thing he could remember was her name.
“Earth to Carter?”
She blinked. “...sir?”
“Have you gone to bed yet?”
“I um… what?”
“Bed, Carter. You know, where most people go to sleep?”
I can think of something else I’d much rather be doing in bed right now.
Hell, maybe a bed was too far away. She had a perfectly good workbench in front of her…
“I can order you, you know?”
Or maybe she’d pin him up against the wall, see how quickly she could make him melt with her lips against his skin…
“...Carter?”
Would he bend her over the workbench? She was flexible enough that she could get her leg up there so he could go as deep as he needed…
“SAM!”
She was pulled out of her thoughts with that shout, feeling her cheeks enflame as reality crashed back around her and she realized where she was and what she’d just been thinking about.
“Sorry, sir, I-I think I do need to call it a night.”
He halfway reached out as if to take a hold of her, to guide her in case she stumbled, but paused, clearly thinking better of it before letting his hand drop back down to his side.
“Call me if you need me, okay?”
She nodded, brushing past him, but she paused in the doorway, turning her head just enough that she could look at him out of the corner of her eye over her shoulder.
“Do us both a favor, sir? Don’t come if I do?”
And then she walked away, leaving him speechless behind her, though maybe there was another fantasy already building when she heard his distant “wait, what?!” call out after her.
Oh yeah… Jack O’Neill definitely fucked.
And Sam Carter could only pray that the day would come sooner rather than later when she could experience it for herself.
*
There were a lot of things about people that Jack O’Neill knew.
Like how Daniel preferred French toast over waffles.
Like how Walter had a favorite style of pen and he bought them in bulk because Heaven forbid he ever lost one. How Siler named all of his wrenches, and his favorite was named Lucille after his wife.
But there was one thing that Jack O’Neill knew above all others - and that was that Samantha Carter had never been properly fucked before.
When he first met her, he figured she was the type of woman who didn’t want to be fucked. That she was the type who only believed in making love and romance and tenderness.
Which was fine. There was a time and a place for that.
As he got to know her, though, he realized there was way more to her than that. Something in her that was longing to get out.
Samantha Carter had a wild side, but she’d never been allowed to show it.
Sometimes, late at night after a particularly hard mission, Jack liked to imagine what it would be like if she came to him. If she just… Showed up at his house in the middle of the night and begged him to make her forget her name.
Or if he stayed a little longer after they had a team night at her place, would she ask him to stay, ask him to start something illicit with her that they’d have to hide from the guys?
Sometimes, only rarely, he liked to take the fantasy further, take it all the way to his cabin where he’d imagine laying her out in front of the fire and worshipping her, his fingers leaving bruises on her thighs from how hard he gripped them as he brought her to ecstasy over and over again with just his tongue.
That was the most dangerous fantasy of them all, though, because sharing the cabin with anyone - let alone with her - was a level of intimacy that Jack hadn’t allowed himself to want in far, far too long.
He wanted, though. He wanted and wanted and wanted, but he refused to take.
Besides, he was fairly certain she didn’t want him anymore…
Which was why it made it all the more surprising when he found her holed up in her lab at 3am, staring off into the distance. “Didn’t I order you to go home, Carter?”
And then she lifted her eyes to his, and Jack was so taken aback by what he saw in their magnificent blue depths that it took his breath away.
Want. Need. Desire. For him.
He finally got her attention by shouting out her given name, and he winced when she looked a little unstable on her feet as she started to walk.
He wanted to reach out and steady her, sure, but more than that he wanted to escort her to her quarters. Wanted to make sure she got inside safely and see if she invited him to stay.
Wanted to see if she begged him to take her the way she’d clearly just been thinking about, and oh but the urge to prove to her that he could make it so she wouldn’t be able to walk the next day…
But he also wanted to stop her, close the door, turn off the security camera. Bend her over her workbench and claim her the same way he wanted to eight years ago when she’d jumped him in the locker room.
Wanted to see what else that pretty little mouth of hers could do. And if she didn’t know, well… he wanted to teach her.
“Call me if you need me, okay?”
She nodded, moving further away from him before she paused, turning her head just enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye. “Do us both a favor, sir? Don’t come if I do?”
She moved the rest of the way out of her lab then, leaving him standing there surrounded by the scent of her, leaving him standing there wanting and hard and aching, and it took everything in him to not chase after her anyway.
Because he wanted to fuck her, sure.
But with those five words - don’t come if I do - now Jack realized that she wanted to fuck him right back.
And he could only hope that the day was closer than not when they finally got to fuck each other.