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Packing Pants
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ADULT

Title: Packing Pants
Author: Ky (venom69)
Fandom: Stargate EssGeeWun
Rating: ADULT
Summary: He hated packing.
Character/Pairing: Sam/Jack
Warnings: Sex. Language. The potential of being corrupted by me.
Author’s Notes: Song belongs to Afroman. (Or a really wrong version by the Chipmunks.) For [info]meg_pat2000, who is packing and bored. And for [info]justace because I love her and I hope this makes her smile.
Disclaimer: Usual guff. Not mine, promise to put them back where I found them.
Date: 18/01/07

***

I was gonna clean my room
Then I got high
I was gonna get up and find the broom
But then I got high…

***

He hated packing.

Hated it with a passion.

When he complained to her, she simply did that woman thing at him - which meant she shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes - and told him to shut up and keep working.

Nice to know who wore the pants in this relationship, then.

"Carter." He called in a manly voice - which basically meant he whined - as he sealed yet another box.

"Keep packing!"

Oh for crying out loud.

Opening another box, Jack peered inside and sneezed at the layer of dust that flew up to attack him. "You know, this probably hasn't been open since I moved in here!"

Carter came into the living room, carrying a box that she had carefully labeled as 'linen press', subsection ‘sheets.’ "Throw it out then."

"Throw what out?"

"The box."

What? He frowned. "All of it?"

She nodded and dumped her box on top of the growing - and horrifically neat - pile that she had established by the door. "Yep."

"But... what if I need something in there?"

Sam rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. "If you haven't opened it since you moved in, what, nine years ago, then you don't need any of it. Toss it all out."

Ignoring her, Jack pulled back the flaps and peeked inside. "I don't know why you would assume that I don't need any of this stuff... oh! Hey, my Simpson’s beach towel! Cool!"

Pulling the towel - and another twenty years supply of dust - out, he shook it and grinned at the picture of Homer in swim trunks.

When he wriggled the towel, Homer's belly moved as if it were really jiggling flab.

Jack smirked.

"You're a grown man, Jack."

Pulling the towel from above his head, he raised an eyebrow at her. "So?"

"Put it in the bin."

"But-"

"Now."

"But-"

"Now."

He muttered under his breath - something about women and world domination - as he rolled the towel back up and tried to ignore the fact that he could see his Dark Side Of The Moon vinyl in the box.

Stuffing the towel back, he closed and sealed it again, sighing.

"Happy?"

"Yes." Carter smiled at him and headed back to the linen press that she was sorting.

When she was out of visual range, Jack grabbed one of her sticker sheets and continued working.

He was so the man.

***

It took all of fifteen minutes - though they were fifteen very long minutes if you asked him - before he was ready to poke his eye out with a Stanley knife and use the masking tape to hang himself.

"Saaaaaaaaaam!"

He could almost hear the sigh from the other end of the house.

"What?"

"C'mere!"

She did - probably concerned that he wasn't wrapping the glass wear up in newspaper properly - and stood in front of him, arms folded and eyebrows raised.

"What?" She repeated.

Leaning over, he kissed her once, lightly. "I love you."

Her glare softened at that - never let it be said that he didn't know what women wanted - and her arms unfolded. "I love you too."

Kissing her again, Jack ran his tongue across her closed lips. "And you're hot." Not the most elegant he'd ever said it - he had once even manage to tell her that she looked exquisite - but those little black shorts she wore for packing did make her look hotter than normal on his 'Carter is Hot-O-Meter'

She huffed against his mouth. "Not so bad yourself."

Jack wrapped both arms around her and pulled her flush against his body. "I really love you."

Kissing him back for just long enough to get him hard against her belly, Sam pulled back from his mouth. "I am not having sex with you until this house is packed."

He made a face - which meant that he pouted - at her. "But I'm bored, Carter."

"I don't care, Jack. This has to be done."

Jack knew that it had to be done.

Really, he completely understood the necessity for the boxes and the tape and all of the other supplies she'd shown up in. ("What the hell is all of that Carter?"

"Packing supplies."

"All we need is boxes and tape. You have an entire stationary store here."

"Shut up and start packing.")

Oh yeah, he totally wore the pants here.

Aside from her strange packing paraphernalia - "Seriously Carter what is with the stickers?" "Jack!" "I'm packing, I'm packing!" - he knew that it had to be done.

After all, he was the one that was jumping ship and going off to Washington, so she was only doing it for him.

He knew that, he really did.

But he was bored and she was so freaking hot with the shorts and the tank top and guh!

"I am not having sex with you until this house is packed." She repeated when it appeared that he was ignoring her.

Which he was.

"Yes, you are." He replied, moving to nuzzle - in a manly sort of way, of course - at her neck.

"Jack..."

He wasn't entirely sure if it was a moan or a warning, but he nipped at her pulse point and figured that he'd find out either way sooner or later.

The little black shorts - of doom - were tight but surprisingly easy to peel off her legs.

There was no grace to his movements - and when his hand wandered between her thighs, he knew that there was even less need for it - and it took all of thirty second before she was naked from the waist down and his shorts - not of doom - were around his ankles.

Pushing her back against a rather large box that held the refrigerator - at least, he though that was it - Jack lifted one of her legs and hooked it around his waist, pushing into her with one smooth thrust.

She moaned, her breath hitching and distorting the sound. "Jack."

"I know, Sam." He patted her ass and pulled out before thrusting into her again, pressing her into the box that wobbled precariously. "You're not prepared to have sex with me to get out of packing."

"Shut up and fuck me, damn you."

Well, at least she wasn't ordering him to pack.

Following her order - he could so do this one - Jack thrust into her again and again, savoring the sweet feeling that came with being inside of her.

He wouldn't say that her insides felt like silk - cause that was kinda gross - but, however it was put, she felt damn good and he was never going to get tired of being with her.

She was chanting his name, getting steadily louder and louder with each inward thrust.

With the angle that they were at, his pelvic bone was nudging against the hood of her clit with his movements and, apparently, that really worked for her.

It didn't take long until her internal muscles were clutching at him - and that certainly rocked his world - and she was groaning his name in one, long, drawn out breath, her body shuddering.

He'd never been able to hold back at the sight and feel of her climaxing on him and Jack pushed into her once more before his toes curled and he shivered, groaning her name.

His trembling legs weren't going to hold them up much longer and he managed to get them both on the ground, still joined, without the loss of too much dignity.

Oh yeah, this kind of packing rocked.

***

"Jack?" Sam asked, her voice tinged with satisfaction.

"Yeah?"

"Why is there a ratty old box in the corner with 'miscellaneous' written on it?"

Jack eyed the old box sadly.

He could almost hear Pink Floyd and Homer crying.

Damnit.

First day in Washington, he was so buying some symbolic pants.

***

End

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