I Never . . .
**Written in response to the Slash Writers Fuh-Q-Fest Challenge #1**
". . . not unlike the concept of transubstantiation in modern Catholicism wherein the Eucharist, or bread and wine, actually becomes the blood and body of Christ, yet still retains the physical characteristics of the original items." Daniel looked around the briefing room in hopes that the members of SG-9, 11, and 13 were following along. All he received were blank stares in return. He tossed the reference book he'd been referring to onto the desk and shook his head. "Bottom line. Don't go into the temple without permission and don't touch anything." With a disgusted grunt he sat down next to Jack who gave him a sympathetic wince.
"Thank you, Dr. Jackson," came Hammond's eternally patient voice. "Colonel O'Neill?"
Jack stood up for his segment of the briefing - weaponry and field assignments. The soldiers sat up a little straighter in their chairs, preparing to take notes, as Jack commenced.
++++
Daniel tossed the materials for the briefing just completed onto his desk and gave a satisfied smirk as most of them hit the floor in a flurry of paper.
"Don't take it personally," came Jack's quiet voice from the doorway.
Daniel turned to glare at the man. "You are the last person who should be trying to excuse their behavior. You do the same thing in our briefings."
Jack let out a little sigh. "If it's any help, I knew what transubstantiation meant."
Daniel looked at him squarely. "Oh?"
"Private Catholic school. Sister Mary Francis." He gave a visible shudder.
Daniel didn't want to but he couldn't stop the small smile that crept onto his face. "Not a good experience?"
"No," Jack said simply and eased himself into Daniel's office. "Wouldn't surprise me at all if the teams came back with ruler marks across their knuckles."
Daniel did laugh at that and slumped into his chair. "I don't know why they make me go through this. Ten seconds into my presentations I can practically hear everyone's eyes glaze over." He leaned down and began picking up the spilled papers from the floor. "It's such a waste of time for everyone concerned. I'll bet good money that Major Grant and Lieutenant Washborne are going to try and bring back a souvenir from this little excursion and we'll end up with wounded coming through the gate."
"Then they'll have me to deal with," Jack said evenly. "I was in that briefing. I heard you warn them. If they screw up, they'll answer for it."
"We still going to the game tonight?" Daniel asked as he straightened up. "Sam said she's looking forward to watching Teal'c experience his first baseball game."
"Tickets are at will-call and I've already stopped at the ATM for food money."
Daniel nodded then fiddled with the papers on his desk. "Am I just spinning my wheels here, Jack? Am I actually accomplishing anything for this program?"
"Where'd this come from?" Jack asked as he leaned one hip against Daniel's desk.
"I dunno," Daniel said as he rubbed his hands over his face. "I guess I'm just frustrated with never really making any progress - never finishing a project before it gets handed off to someone else."
Jack tapped his finger firmly on the desk. "What you do matters. More than you know." He pushed a book toward Daniel. "Finish up whatever it is you've got going. I'll be by in an hour to get you so we can get out of here and into some fresh air."
Daniel nodded and opened a folder on his desk. "One hour," he said firmly. "Go pester Sam so I can get busy here."
++++
Jack heard a loud thump, the sound of breaking glass and then the alarms began to sound as smoke billowed into the hall. "It's alright!" came Sam's voice. "There's no fire! Everything's . . . just . . . fine."
Jack trotted up behind the Major who was waving off the fire crews who'd come running. He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder to let her know that he was there then drew it away quickly, his palm covered in slime. "What the hell is that?" he demanded, shaking his hand rapidly to dislodge the goo.
When Sam turned around, he forgot about his hand, forgot about the slick mess he'd touched, and merely stared at Sam - her hair blown back and plastered down with a film of the stuff that was on her shirt, great globs of the substance running down her face and off her nose and chin. He tried not to - he fought valiantly to prevent it . . . but in the end he lost and sagged against the wall as great gusts of laughter washed over him.
Sam's face remained neutral and she snuffed a particular large drop away from her nose and turned to go back into her lab. Jack followed her, belly laughing all the way. When he stepped inside the door, he saw that every surface was covered with what could only be described as ectoplasm.
Hurried footsteps echoed down the hall and in a few moments Daniel came running through the door. "What happened? Sam, are you . . . oh . . . god," he laughed when he caught sight of her. The fact that Jack was laughing himself breathless didn't help Daniel's cause to try and retain his composure. Soon the men were propping each other up as they laughed to the point of tears.
Sam wiped her hands over her face, slinging the excess goop away, then held her head high and walked past the two men. "I'll be in the showers if anyone's looking for me," she said to her staff as she walked toward the door. She slapped her hands on their shoulders as she went, leaving two large, wet and sticky prints behind. It only made them laugh harder.
++++
"Daniel," Jack said as he passed Daniel his change, "that's your fourth hot dog."
"I'm hungry," Daniel said as he stuffed his mouth.
"You're gonna get sick," Jack warned. "It's hot out here, you haven't eaten all day - I'm just warning you."
"I'll be fine," Daniel mumbled as he watched another hit sail out of the park. "Our team sucks."
Sam leaned forward to look at Daniel. "Such language," she teased.
"Well it's true," Daniel chuckled before washing down his last bite with beer. He looked down the seats, past Jack and Sam, to see Teal'c sitting contentedly, his double soda-can hat perched regally upon his head. Daniel had given him one of his bandanas to wear to cover the gold tattoo on his forehead so he wouldn't have to wear a hat on such a warm day. However, Jack, in his amateurish playfulness, had purchased the hat for Teal'c. Never one to be upstaged, Teal'c had decided not only to wear it, but to put it to its proper use. He was currently working on his fifth and sixth sodas. "Having fun, Te...um.... Murray?"
"Indeed I am, DanielJackson," Teal'c said, gracing his friends with one of his rare smiles. "I find this game to be quite enjoyable to watch, even if, as you say, our team sucks." He settled back in his chair and crossed his large, muscular legs at the ankles. "This is a most relaxing pastime."
Daniel sat back and looked at Jack. "He likes this better than hockey."
"He does not," Jack said, affronted.
"Does too."
"Doesn't," came Jack's petulant response.
"Does."
"Hey, Murray. You like this better than hockey?" Jack asked, turning to look at the Jaffa.
"Indeed," Teal'c said with a lopsided grin.
Jack turned back quickly toward Daniel and scowled. Turning his attention toward the game, Daniel merely smiled into his beer.
++++
"That is SO outta here," Jack yelled as he watched a line drive sail out over the fence. "Nice swing, Teal'c!"
Teal'c trotted slowly around the bases, coming to a stop at home plate where he bowed his head in O'Neill's direction as the Colonel took a few practice swings before his turn at bat.
"O'Neill, next time - leave the one man wreckin' crew back at the base, huh?" came Colonel Donohue's voice from the other side of the benches.
"What's the matter, Chris? Not up to a little friendly competition?" O'Neill teased.
Except for a skeleton crew left back at the Mountain, the SGC had organized a mid-summer picnic. They'd taken over one of the larger parks just outside Colorado Springs, fired up the barbecues and turned loose the kids. Spouses of the team members made sure a huge spread was laid on for the enjoyment of all, and a game of softball and volleyball were organized. Jack could feel the tension seeping out of him as he stood over home plate to receive his pitch.
"Knock it out of here, Jack," came Daniel's voice from behind the fence.
"Right field's weak, sir," Sam. "Easy double that way."
Jack watched as the ball arced in the air . . . closer . . . closer. . . .
Kathwack!!
The people watching in the stands cheered as the ball dropped just short of the right fielder. Jack ran easily to first, turned, judged the distance, then barreled on toward second. He pulled up, his toe poised on the corner of the base. The soft thump of the ball landing in the glove of the woman playing second base let him know that was all the farther he was going for now.
"Dempsey," grinned Jack with every ounce of little boy charm he could muster.
"Sir," came the growled reply.
"Now, now," Jack chided. "Teal'c's not the only one who can swing a bat on my team."
"Must have been the gray hair that fooled me, sir."
Jack pretended to look offended - until he laughed at the comment. "Just remember who writes up your evals, Sergeant."
"That thought is with me constantly, sir," Dempsey said, moving off the base and getting ready for the next play. Sam was next up.
"Come on, Carter!" Jack yelled, clapping in encouragement.
Sam stepped up to the plate, swung the bat to loosen her shoulders, then pointed it straight into center field. She took her position over the plate. The pitch came, low and inside . . . and was bunted to a nearly dead stop just outside the batter's box.
Jack sprinted over to third and Sam beat out the throw to first. She did a little victory dance on the base until Janet Fraiser smacked her with her hat.
Daniel stooped to pick up the bat, surveying the outfielders as he pulled on a pair of batting gloves. He tightened the wrist straps and grasped the bat firmly.
Jack, who'd been watching Daniel bat all day long, was suddenly mesmerized by the actions. His mind shifted suddenly to an image of Daniel laying naked on a bed, his arms above him as velvet-lined, leather cuffs were tightened around his wrists. Jack shook his head to clear the unasked for vision. He felt an uncomfortable stirring in his shorts and was quite thankful he'd decided to wear the baggy ones instead of the more fitted ones he'd originally intended on. "Come on, Daniel. Hit me home!" he shouted to cover his discomfiture.
Daniel glanced down at Jack and momentarily froze. The summer sun had turned Jack's hair to shining silver, and the sweat glistening on his arms, neck and shoulders made Daniel's mouth water. Daniel stepped carefully out of the batter's box, pretending to knock the dirt from the bottom of his shoes with the bat while he tried to refocus his mind on the task at hand - and not wonder what the taste of Jack's sweat would be like on his tongue as he brought Jack to a shattering orgasm.
With a long, deep breathe, Daniel retook his position and waited for the pitch. He stepped fully into his swing and sent the ball flying high over the center field fence. With the crowd shouting and laughing around him, he took his turn around the bases, high fiving General Hammond as he passed. When he returned to the bench he was greeted with slaps and pats for a job well done.
"Great hit," Jack beamed. "Where'd that come from?"
Daniel took a long drink from his bottle of water before answering. "I was motivated."
++++
". . . so I come in high on this guy's six," Jack said, his hands illustrating his story.
"Oh not this story again," groaned Donohue as he handed Jack a beer.
"You are such a sore loser," Jack wheedled. "Didn't your parents ever teach you how to lose gracefully?"
"About as well as yours taught you to win gracefully," Donohue snickered.
Jack was reclined in his lawn chair, leg up on one of the bleachers with a bag of ice wrapped loosely to his knee. The afternoon had grown hot and everyone was simply lounging in the shade, enjoying the easy camaraderie, the good food, and the peace that came with not being in the pressure cooker that was the Mountain.
Daniel watched Jack from one of the shaded picnic tables. He was more than a little unnerved at the feelings that had suddenly begun to tumble around in his stomach every time he thought of his best friend and CO. They were close, everyone on base knew that - but this was so much different than what he'd grown accustomed to that it frightened him.
Daniel knew full well that Jack wasn't aware of his past sexual history, or that his love for Shau're had been a fluke, something so completely out of left field it had surprised even him. He was certain that there was something in his file regarding his past, but even then he'd managed to be very discrete. He wondered now what Jack would think if he knew his best friend, the man he thought he knew so well, confessed to him that not only was he gay . . . but that he also wanted to know Jack in the most intimate of ways. Daniel sighed with frustration and went back to his potato salad.
Jack's eyes flitted once again toward the picnic table where Daniel sat, surrounded by his laughing co-workers and friends, quietly eating his meal. He could see the lines between his eyebrows even from this distance and Jack knew there must be something serious rattling around in that amazing brain. His eyes traveled over the muscled thighs and calves, the broad shoulders and strong chest of his friend. Daniel had definitely become stronger and more athletic during his time with SG-1 and Jack wondered why he'd never noticed before - at least, not in a . . . libidinous manner. A pang of guilt cut through his gut - he didn't want to be feeling these things for Daniel, but there they were.
He couldn't deny that Daniel looked spectacular in the loose fitting basketball jersey and cut off jeans. He'd kicked off his tennis shoes and was digging his toes into the sand beneath the table while he ate.
"Hey, O'Neill, you with us?" came Donohue's voice followed by a sharp smack on the leg.
"Watch the merchandise, there Chris. I bruise easily."
This was followed by loud guffaws from his fellow officers as they began regaling one another with their best O'Neill-in-action stories. Jack cast one final, longing look in Daniel's direction before forcing himself to concentrate fully on those around him.
++++
"How's the knee?" Daniel asked as he helped Jack unload his truck and clean out the ice chests.
"Huh? Oh. Fine. I just wanted to make sure it didn't swell up or anything, ya know? Got a mission in two days."
"Good. I'm glad it's okay," Daniel said quietly.
"Hey - you alright?" asked Jack as he pulled the softball equipment from behind the seat.
"Oh, yeah. Just thinking." Daniel tipped another chest out onto the grass and watched as two beers splashed out with the water. "You want one?" he asked, holding one up to Jack.
"Like you have to ask," Jack said as he took it from Daniel's hand. Both men cracked open the cans and sat back in the cool grass, drinking quietly as dusk descended over them.
"I need to tell you something," Daniel said quietly.
Jack looked up and saw the resolute face he knew all too well. This was the same face he got when Daniel refused to leave a dig site, or was going to help someone in trouble even if Jack told him no. His heart sank. "What's that?"
"It would appear," Daniel began with a sad little laugh, "that somewhere along the line . . . I've developed some feelings for you that probably aren't wholly appropriate considering our working situation." He pursed his lips and toyed with his beer can. After a few seconds, he raised his eyes and looked evenly at Jack, waiting for the response.
Jack tried to wait until the sound of his blood rushing around his veins calmed and he could think clearly. He coughed self-consciously and looked away, needing desperately to maintain control over his reactions so he didn't tackle Daniel to the ground and kiss him senseless right there in his front yard. "I, uh . . ." another cough. "I can't say I'm . . . um . . ."
"Too thrilled?" Daniel finished for him.
"No . . . disappointed would be the phrase."
"You're not disappointed?" asked Daniel. His jaw tightened. "Since when?"
"Since today, actually," Jack said with a small shrug. "I was on third base, you were about to bat and it just sort of . . . hit me."
"Really?" Daniel asked, obviously surprised. "That's . . . odd."
"How's that?"
"Oh, it's. . . well, it's just that I sort of figured this out today myself . . . while you were . . . standing on third base." Daniel took a long drink of beer. "Well this is awkward."
"You know, nothing has to change," Jack offered. "We're still friends. I'm not planning on doing anything . . . you know . . . improper because there are some shared feelings."
"Do you want to do something improper?" Daniel offered. He made a strangled noise before standing up quickly. "I'm sorry - that was way out of line and totally unnecessary." He moved to continue cleaning out the ice chests when Jack was suddenly behind him.
"Don't," Jack whispered, pinning his arms firmly to his sides. "Don't dance around saying stuff to me. I'm your friend, Daniel, and I'm thinking that maybe I'd like to be more." He waited until he felt some of the tension leave his friend's body before he turned Daniel around and looked into his eyes. "Let's just . . . take some time. Think about this."
Daniel nodded. Jack rubbed his hands up and down on his arms before giving him a little squeeze and stepping back, out of Daniel's personal space.
"I didn't know you were . . . gay?" Daniel asked tentatively
"Bi," Jack said quietly. "What I had with Sara was very, very real."
"So was Shau're for me," Daniel said. "I dated other women, but men have pretty much always . . . done it . . . for me." He gave a little shrug. He didn't understand why it was so hard to talk about this to Jack - who obviously understood - when he'd never had trouble discussing his sexuality before.
"Listen," Jack said gently, "let's get this cleaned up. You head back to your place, think this over. I'll do the same here. When we're ready to talk about this, we'll see where it goes."
Daniel nodded. He was more than a little stunned at the revelations of the last few minutes and wanted some time to let it settle in him. They'd talk about it when the time came.
++++
". . . and so your answer was to just blow up the ship?" Daniel demanded as he followed Jack into the briefing room.
"I wanted options, Daniel, not ultimatums!" Jack snarled.
"It's the same thing as happened with the Eurondans," Daniel spit. "You dismissed my opinions . . ."
"I had orders to carry out . . ."
"Oh don't give me that! You take time to listen to Sam and Teal'c in the field . . ."
"Don't turn this into a favoritism contest because you know that I give you way more latitude than I should . . ."
"Gentlemen!" barked Hammond. "My office. Now."
"Dammit," Jack hissed as he turned an angry stare toward Daniel. The two men followed the General into his office.
"General . . ." "Sir . . ." both men began.
"Quiet," Hammond ordered. He leaned over his desk and glared at both men. "I don't know what the hell has gotten into you two, but I would suggest you end your combative behavior and find a resolution to your difficulties before I am forced to take action that everyone concerned will regret. Do I make myself understood?"
"Yes, sir." "Yes, General."
"Now get the hell out of here and find some perspective. Debriefing is in one hour." With that, Hammond sat down and flipped open a folder on his desk, not glancing up at either of the men as they walked out.
"My office," growled Daniel as he headed toward the elevator.
++++
When the door slammed behind Jack, he'd just taken a breath to continue the argument from the briefing room, but instead found himself on the receiving end of one of the most passionate and incendiary kisses he could remember ever receiving. Daniel had him pinned to the door in a full body press, tongue demanding entrance and hips emphasizing that more was going on than just an argument about field tactics. Jack felt himself melt in the presence of the inferno that was Daniel.
Tearing their lips apart, Daniel breathed harshly into Jack's face. "This is what it's been about. For weeks we've been wanting this - needing this, but neither one would give in. Every time we're around each other, it turns into an alpha male pissing contest." He shoved his hips hard into Jack's which produced a most satisfactory groan. "Time to give in, Jack."
"Is that what this is?" Jack panted, his groin so tight it was hard to talk. "Get me on my back with my legs in the air and you've got control of me? Is that all this means to you, Daniel?"
"You know better than that," Daniel ground out between his teeth, hands sliding down to clamp onto Jack's butt. "But one of use has to break down and give in a little."
Jack's head began to clear. "So . . . what? I'm bottom, you're top and therefore you're in charge?"
"I don't bottom, Jack. At least, not at the start of a relationship and very rarely, if ever, while in one. I think on some level you know that . . . you've sensed it."
Jack shoved Daniel roughly away from him. "I was talking about more than sex when I told you how I felt, Daniel. If you don't get that, then there's no point in pursuing this." Jack stood up straight, yanked his clothes back into order and ran the back of his hand over his mouth as though he were wiping away the taste of something foul. "If this can't be handled between the two of us - if it gets in the way of our work in the field, I'll reassign your ass so fast your head will spin." Just before he stepped through the door, Jack turned to face him once more. "And for your information, Doctor Jackson, I've never bottomed - not once."
Daniel watched Jack walk through the door and wondered what the hell had just happened.
++++
Dreams teach. That's what Shifu had said - had tried to explain to him. Daniel was still reeling from his experience with the boy, his view of himself and those around him drastically changed by his experience. Leaning forward onto his desk, he recited a line from the Bible he'd learned a long time ago, one he'd assumed he'd had the right to disagree with. "There is none good among us, not even one."
"That must have been one hell of a dream."
Daniel looked up to see Jack lounging in his doorway. "I can't even begin to tell you," Daniel said tiredly.
"You look like a man who's been kicked squarely in the ego. Want to talk about it?"
Daniel shook his head. "Not right now." He searched around for some papers he was working on before their last mission had started. "I just want to get some work done before I go home."
"Well here's a news flash," Jack said, easing himself into the room. "It's after 1800 hours. Work can wait until tomorrow. Come on."
"No, Jack, I need to get this done."
"You need to come with me," Jack said seriously. "Let's go."
"Jack."
"Now, Daniel." Jack left, knowing full well that Daniel would follow. He let the man catch up with him at the elevators. "Get changed, go home, pack some things and meet me at my house in two hours."
"Pack some things?" Daniel asked incredulously.
"Yeah. Clear enough, isn't it?" Jack shoved Daniel into the elevator. "Two hours."
Daniel spent one hour and fifteen minutes fuming at Jack, refusing to do as he asked. He spent the next fifteen taking a shower and shaving; the next ten packing an overnight bag with a few changes of clothes; the next ten driving to Jack's house; and the final ten sitting in the driveway, fuming once again. Yanking his duffle bag from the back seat, he slammed his car door and stormed up to the front of Jack's house, fully prepared to tell Jack to go straight to hell. Until Jack opened the door.
The lights were off but a soft glow suffused the inside of the house. Jack stood, framed by the glow of the fire and candle light, dressed in a soft, black turtleneck sweater, sleeves pushed up to his elbows; black dress slacks, socks and shoes completing the outfit. "I was wondering if you were going to stay out there all night." Jack moved aside to let Daniel in.
Daniel eased inside the door, setting his bag down slowly. "Umm . . . this is rather . . . romantic."
Jack shrugged. "Thought maybe a little atmosphere would help."
"Help who?"
Jack gave a slow smile and picked up Daniel's bag. "Have a seat. Dinner will be ready in a couple minutes."
"Din...dinner? You cooked?"
"Sure," Jack said from down the hall. Daniel could tell that his things had NOT been taken to the guest bedroom. He felt the butterflies start in his stomach. They were going to end up in bed together tonight, but that was the only thing he knew for certain.
Turning to survey the scene set out before him, Daniel saw the candles on the table, the fine china place settings, wine goblets and the real silver cutlery. This was more than a romantic dinner - this was a seduction. "Considering that not long ago we were considering beating each other into the floor of my office, don't you think this is a bit presumptuous?" Daniel turned to watch Jack walk slowly back through the living room.
Jack merely gave a small shrug. "I consider it a leap of faith," he said smugly.
Daniel studied Jack carefully, from the top of his carefully combed hair down to his Italian leather shoes. "I don't like that you commanded me to be here."
"No one forced you to show up," Jack said quietly, walking past Daniel and into the kitchen.
"I wasn't left with much choice," Daniel said, knowing all the while that Jack was right. The decision had been completely up to him.
"I hate arguing on an empty stomach. You hungry?"
"Dammit, Jack," Daniel said, balling his hands into fists and before letting them fall back to his sides. "I . . . hate it when you do that."
"Do what?" Jack asked as he drained the pasta into a colander that was waiting in the sink.
"Crack a joke in the middle of something serious."
Jack looked over at Daniel who had come to stand in the doorway. "Sorry."
Daniel let the apology drop without a response. "Need any help?"
"Nope. Go ahead and sit down." Jack began tossing the pasta with a light pesto sauce. "You can open the wine if you want."
Daniel sat down at the table and carefully opened the bottle of wine Jack had waiting. He read the label and his eyebrows climbed in surprise. "I almost feel guilty."
"Why's that?" Jack asked as he placed a dish of pasta in front of Daniel before grating fresh cheese over the top.
"You've gone to all this work . . ."
"For nothing?" Jack finished for him when Daniel hesitated.
"Probably," Daniel confirmed.
"Then just relax and enjoy the meal." Jack smiled softly and seated himself, pulling the linen napkin into his lap.
Daniel took an experimental bite and looked at Jack in shock. "You get this catered in?"
"I can cook, ya know," Jack said, waving a fork full of bread and pesto in Daniel's direction.
"Steaks, re-heated pizza . . . that I knew about. I didn't know about this."
"No one does," Jack said playfully. He picked up his glass of wine and toasted his companion before taking a long, lingering drink.
The mood lightened somewhat and Daniel finally relaxed enough to enjoy the main course - a rich chicken dish in a hearty sauce served with roasted potatoes and a fresh salad. By the end of the night, and another bottle of wine, the majority of his apprehension had melted away like the lemon sorbet Jack had served for dessert.
He'd helped with clean up, then accompanied Jack into the living room to sit in front of the fire. "I put your bag in the bathroom," Jack said softly.
Daniel's eyes shot up and he felt heat rising to his cheeks. "Thanks."
"Thought I put it in my room?" Jack asked. "That would have been presumptuous."
"There seems to be a great deal of that happening tonight," Daniel said with a self-effacing laugh. "Well, longer than tonight, actually."
Jack studied Daniel closely - giving him room and time to talk if he wanted. He watched as Daniel's long, strong fingers traced invisible patters over the wine glass's surface before pitter patting on the arm of the chair. "There something you wanna say?"
Daniel shrugged, shook his head slightly, then looked up at Jack. "Why'd you ask me to come here?"
"Just wanted you here," Jack said simply.
"Why all this?" Daniel motioned around the room with his index finger.
"Wanted to do something nice."
"If I said I wanted to go home?" Daniel finished off the wine in his glass.
"I'd ask you not to - because you've had the majority of two bottles of wine. And because I'd like you to stay."
"If I said I'm sleeping in the guest room?"
"I'll let you have the bathroom first." Jack smiled into his own glass.
"If I said I'm sleeping with you?" Daniel raised his eyes and locked his gaze onto Jack.
"I'd still let you have the bathroom first."
Both men smiled and fell silent for a few moments. The sound of crackling wood in the fire punctuated the silence.
"If I still won't bottom?"
Jack's smile turned slightly sad but his eyes were still soft. "Then I would."
Daniel searched Jack's face for any hint of a joke or a sarcastic jibe, but all he could see was an open honesty that Jack had rarely, if ever, revealed to him or anyone else. He was serious, and Daniel knew it.
Instead of being triumphant, Daniel felt guilty and petty - a petulant child bound and determined to get his way no matter what the cost. He leaned forward and put his glass on the table before rising to his feet to stand before the fire. He heard Jack shift around on the couch. He could see him in his mind's eye, his back resting comfortably in the corner, one leg bent and resting casually on the cushions, that damn knowing smirk on his face.
"I can certainly be an arrogant little prick," Daniel said with a mocking laugh. He was surprised when there was no response from Jack. He turned to look at his friend who was seated, not settled in the corner of the sofa, but perched on the very edge of the seat, arms resting on knees, fingers twined loosely in front of him, eyes staring down at his shoes.
"We both can," Jack said, tightening his fingers. He looked up at Daniel, patient, waiting.
"I don't want to give in," Daniel admitted. "I don't want to say 'yes' to you, because somehow in my strange, convoluted way of thinking, it means you win and I lose."
"Doesn't have to." Jack spoke so softly, Daniel had to strain to hear him. "This isn't a competition."
Alpha male pissing contest, Daniel reminded himself. Those were the words he'd used - and he was trapped by them, damned because of them. He reached up and rubbed his eyes, his eyeglasses coming precariously close to falling off. He felt Jack before he saw him, moving to catch the glasses before they could slip away. He opened his eyes, vision slightly blurry from the rubbing and the lateness of the hour. Jack seemed to be surrounded by a slightly golden aura from the fire and the candles.
Daniel stepped slowly into Jack's personal space, his arms reaching out to wrap around the strong torso. There was the small clatter of his glasses being set on the table before the embrace was returned. Daniel leaned his forehead against Jack's shoulder and let out a long breath. Jack merely rubbed the strong, broad back, his cheek rubbing against the hair of Daniel's head. "Take me to bed, Jack."
Jack placed a gentle kiss against one temple before releasing his hold. "You put out the candles, I'll take care of the fire."
Daniel nodded and moved slowly around the living room, blowing out one candle after another until the faint light from the small fire was all that was left. Jack met him in the center of the room, hand going to the small of Daniel's back - resting there, patient.
Daniel took a step toward the stairs, Jack following, his hand still only resting on him, not guiding or steering - just a warm presence. As they passed the bathroom, Daniel chuckled as he saw his duffle back tucked neatly inside the door. Jack hadn't been kidding. A few more steps and they were in Jack's bedroom. One single, large candle burned atop a book case. Daniel was surprised when Jack turned to shut the door, the sudden intimacy of the room closing in on him.
They stepped to the bed, Jack kicking off his shoes while his hands rubbed up and down Daniel's arms. "Nothing has to happen," he whispered.
Daniel pondered the offer. He knew that he could undress, get in bed, curl up and go to sleep if that's all he wanted. He also knew that if he wanted to make love all night long, Jack would let him do that as well. Again Daniel was hit by knowledge that the ball, however euphemistic, was truly in his court. Daniel conveyed his answer by reaching out to unbuckle Jack's belt.
"I was hoping you'd say that," Jack breathed, moving in to press his lips against Daniel's.
++++
Daniel lay quietly, listening to the storm blow outside Jack's bedroom window. The curtains were open, letting in the reflected light from the street. It always surprised him just how bright everything got when it snowed at night. He felt Jack snuggle in against him, pulling the covers over their shoulders to keep out the chill. Daniel was laying on his stomach, his body wonderfully sated after making love with Jack earlier. Jack lay over him, using the area between Daniel's shoulder blades as a pillow.
Clenching the muscles of his anus, he felt the slight ache from being well and truly taken. He knew Jack would be feeling the same way - they'd both bottomed and they'd both loved it. As Jack had fallen asleep, he'd whispered words to Daniel that were still rolling around inside him like the snow in the wind. "It wasn't about control, Daniel. It was about trust."
Daniel felt Jack's lips place a kiss between his shoulders. "Go to sleep, Daniel."
"I will," Daniel whispered, trapping Jack's hand beneath his chest and giving it a squeeze. "Just watching the snow."
"You're thinking and it's keeping me awake," Jack mumbled as he nosed up into the back of Daniel's neck, causing the other man to shiver. "Mmmmm . . . nice."
Daniel chuckled and pushed his body back against Jack who obliged by climbing fully on top of his lover. "You want to?"
"Of course," Jack answered softly as he kissed and nipped across one shoulder, "but not that way. We've both had enough for the first time."
"Did I hurt you?" Daniel asked.
"It hurt," Jack answered honestly, "but not so much that I wouldn't do it again in a heartbeat. However," he mumbled as he began to lick his way down along Daniel's spine, "we do have a medical exam to get through . . ."
The phone rang loudly, stopping what Jack was about to say. "Dammit," Daniel grunted, burying his head into the pillow. He felt Jack roll away from him and answer the phone. The conversation was brief and one sided. Jack hung up, opened the drawer in the bed side dresser then took up his previous position. He pressed the lube into Daniel's hand.
"General Hammond just gave us two days downtime. Snow storm." Jack resumed his licking.
"Who says you get to bottom?" Daniel asked, raising his hips slightly in invitation to Jack's maddening tongue.
"Why Dr. Jackson, you naughty, naughty boy," Jack chuckled, taking the lube back.
"Oh you don't know the half of it, Colonel O'Neill," Daniel smiled back, his breath coming out in a long, contented sigh that seemed to blend with the gusting of the wind outside.
What was outside wasn't important to Daniel - what had happened within him was. For the first time since his parents died, he'd found trust in another human being. It wouldn't be easy, he knew there'd be rough times ahead, but he also knew it would be worth it. His body reacted to this truth, opening to Jack - relaxing and easing the penetration until it was just a dull burn. "I never knew it could be like this," Daniel breathed into the night, "I . . . never . . ."
- finis -
