Making the decision that he should follow you back to your place is fairly simple, given everything else that's happened in the last hour.
The two of you make your way out of the mountain together in a comfortable silence. You don't stop to exchange a quick kiss or say anything more as you split up, and you spend every last second of the drive home second-guessing yourself and wondering if he's actually going to show up.
You've run through the number of possibilities to explain all of this – concussions, near-death experiences, alternate realities, alien influences – a thousand times before you pull up in front of your house to find his truck already there.
Neither of you seems sure of what to say now that you're away from the roles that have so clearly defined everything about you, so instead, you greet each other with a smile and he falls in step behind you as you make your way to the door.
Moving inside, you put down your things and take off your jacket, but he's already moved into the other room. Your place has changed a lot since the last time he was here, but then again, so has a lot about your life.
Though she spends most of her time at school, Cassie is living with you now. Her things and things that used to be a part of Janet's house are now haphazardly mixed in with yours.
Jack scrolls along the bookshelf, one finger gracefully brushing over the spines of the extensive collection of books, and you're waiting for a comment. Waiting for him to notice something about the alphabetization, interests, materials or something and break the silence that's killing you.
You're rooted to your spot in the doorway watching him. Your eyes are drawn to his hands and you're amazed by how much you want to feel those hands again. How much you want every bit of his attention to be centered on you and how you want those hands to know every inch of you.
Almost fleetingly you wonder if his mouth will follow his hands in their line of study, before your thoughts are interrupted.
"Carter?"
Your eyes meet his and you can feel your cheeks burning under his gaze and the passionate flare that sparks under the surface lets you know that he knows exactly where your thoughts have drifted.
"Who's this?"
The small orange and white ball of fur in his hands gives forth a tiny cry that sounds more like a squeak than a meow and a small smile is instantly on your face.
"This," you say, moving over to relieve him of the small burden, "is Tesla."
Carrying the kitten into the kitchen, you open a cabinet and take down the box of food, filling her dish. Leaning against the counter, you watch Jack watch you.
He walks over, stands in front of you, and you watch, incredulously, as his arms snake past you effectively caging you there.
"Tesla?"
"Yes."
His face is close and your eyes drift closed as you feel the faintest touch of his lips against yours.
"As in Nikola?"
You smile, deciding you've had enough of letting him lead everything and pull him closer for yet another, deeper kiss, your hands deftly untucking his shirt from his pants while he stands there.
"Yes."
His lips travel to your jaw line, his teeth nipping lightly at your skin. Your breath rushes over your lips in a ragged sigh as your body finally reacts in the ways that it's wanted to for so long but has always been forbidden.
Your hands move up the muscular planes of his back, holding him to you, and you briefly wonder if there's any chance of you getting out of the room before the whole thing is over and he's gone and headed to DC on a plane. You don't want this to be over quickly though, and you don't want it to be all on his terms. This isn't your lab, this is your house. And while he may be in command on the base, he made it perfectly clear earlier that he wants something more of this. More from you.
So the muffled grunt that he releases as you spin your bodies around so the you are the one caging him in isn't completely a surprise. He might want more, but has he really thought this through enough to be ready for it?
You make quick work of divesting him of his shirt and have his belt undone and his jeans unbuckled before his hands move to your wrists stalling your movements.
"In a rush, Carter?"
You'd slap him if the smirk on his face wasn't so shit-eating and adorable that it makes you want to laugh instead. Who's rushing anything? You've known each other for almost nine years and hardly anything has ever happened to you before today. Before, in your lab, when he had his hand between your legs and so much as challenged you to not want more. It was such a challenge that you were destined to fail before it was even uttered.
So, instead, you pull him closer and kiss him hard and rough before strategically pulling out a move that Teal'c has shown you over the years and pulling your once and former CO down onto the cool hard tile that is your kitchen floor. It's a move you've always wanted to try, but doubted you ever would. It's just a tad bit on the dangerous side that it would freak most men out if it didn't manage to hurt them. With him, things are different. They are now and they always have been, and that's part of the allure and part of the fear behind all of this.
The floor isn't as comfortable as you thought it might be, or maybe you never thought about it enough. Or really wanted it to be comfortable, but merely convenient. Either way, it will do.
You prop yourself up and straddle his waist while you remove your own shirt. The hard tile of the floor is pressing into your knees and you know that he could never take this without being in excruciating pain, so you're glad that you have every intention of remaining on top.
The jeans are a bit harder to lose without some careful balancing and a bit of assistance from the very nice, very textured, hands that move up to ever so efficiently slide your remaining clothes from your hips. His fingers move across your skin as they push your jeans and underwear aside. He's not just removing clothing; he's caressing you, memorizing the feel.
From your position, his clothes are much easier to remove, and if your kisses grow a bit more fierce when he starts to protest about the location, you push it out of your mind.
Earlier, everything was on his terms – not that you would have protested if you wanted to – but now this is your ground, your territory, and you're taking this one for you.
He sits up a bit as you finish removing his pants, and you use his shoulder as a point of balance. His lips are rough as they crash against you and his fingers dig into your skin like they're meant to mark you.
The fleeting thought that it's a good thing Carolyn cleared you for your transfer this morning flutters through your brain before most conscious thought is extinguished and all you can concentrate on is this.
A small part of you wants to slow down. Wants to remember this and cherish it because you're afraid it may never happen again and you'll both realize that it never should have happened in the first place. The rest of you couldn't really give a flying fuck about much right now. You just want to place your mark on his body as he has on yours and claim him.
Neither of you will last long at the pace you've set, but this isn't about tenderness or love or anything else at the moment.
This, right here, is about eight long years of pent-up frustrations and lust.
This is about you staking a claim on the one man you never thought you'd be able to get your hands on so you had tried to push him out of your mind, out of your heart and out of your system.
You had almost lost him in the process.
There are no tender caresses, or gentle kisses. This is hard, fast, and brutal. Your muscles and body will remember this day. The bruises left behind by fingers and teeth will be a reminder of every action for the next good week. And you can't wait to move on from this and get to the tender caresses and the gentle, loving kisses, but their time is later.
You collapse on top of him and feel him shiver beneath you against the cool tile of the bare kitchen floor. You could have jumped him in the living room so the carpet would provide some warmth, but no, you didn't think of that one.
"You're going to kill me."
The soft sound of his breathless voice makes you smile and you snort into his shoulder as you begin to laugh.
"We're both a bit too old for this."
"Ya think?"
A tiny squeak from the counter draws your attention as Tesla quirks her head at you.
"No wonder his theories on physics were far out there."
You slap his shoulder as you struggle against protesting muscles and move to stand. You've always wondered when your life would be 'normal', now you've just accepted that day will never come.
So you'll take things as you get them.