Change of View

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" rowspan="2" width=120 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="01078642egerdp.jpg"> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" height=428 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="00f64643.jpg"> <div> <B>Change of View</B></div> <div>  <A NAME="change_of_view"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></div> <div> He's apologizing.</div> <bR> <div> <I>I mean, how was I supposed to know what the hell to make of all of it?  Then I died, I came back, I thought my life would slide right back into place.  I had no idea, Jack.  I didn't.</I></div> <bR> <div> Why the hell is he apologizing to me for this? *How* do you apologize for this?</div> <bR> <div> <I>It's not like I went out and did this on purpose, you know?  I mean . . . color me surprised</I>.</div> <bR> <div> There's that self-deprecating smile - the one I hate.  The one that says, "here I go, being the geek again."</div> <bR> <div> "Daniel."</div> <bR> <div> He doesn't stop.  Doesn't even break stride.</div> <bR> <div> <I>You brought us all up here but I know you had other plans.  Sam brought an extra bag . . . she's been dropping hints left, right and center . . . I know you two are finally going to get things underway . . . I don't mean to try and stop that at all.  It's just that, after all this time, after everything, *everything* we've been through together . . . I had this moment of clarity, ya know?</I></div> <bR> <div> "Daniel."</div> <bR> <div> <I>No, let me finish Jack.  I'll never be able to . . . to say what needs to be said unless I get it all out now.</I></div> <bR> <div> He's not even looking at me.  His back is to me and he's looking out at the lake.  Carter and Teal'c ran into town to restock on beer and Daniel pounced on me the minute the dust settled.  Now here we are, he's baring his soul to the point *I* feel naked *for* him . . . and it's killing me what he's saying.  The pure honesty of it all shames me.  I'm a first class rat bastard is what I am.  I'm dirty and spoiled and I don't deserve even a smidgeon of what he's confessing . . . or offering..</div> <bR> <div> <I>I don't know when it happened.  I didn't really recognize that it *had* happen until you were in that . . . stasis device.  You looked so utterly abandoned . . . totally and completely alone.  It tore my heart out and I realized . . . I understood my feelings were much deeper than they should be for a man who is *just* a friend.  It scared me, Jack.  Threw everything I knew about myself way out of whack.  It took us a long time to get you out of that thing.  It gave me some time to, I dunno, think.  Digest, maybe.  Weigh what I felt against the person I've always been.  I came to an understanding that feeling what I do - for you - it doesn't change who I am.  It just is.</I></div> <bR> <div> I hear the boards of the dock give slightly as Daniel turns to face me.  Jesus Christ, his eyes.  They're so sad . . . and hurt.  I did this to him.  I put that pain there.  I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out.</div> <bR> <div> <I>It's alright.  You don't have to say a word.  That's not why I wanted to talk to you about this.  I just needed you to know.  And I wanted to say, I'm sorry.  I never, ever intended for it to happen.</I></div> <bR> <div> Why the *hell* am I just standing here?  I should do something - *say* something.  I just act like a fish out of water, mouth hanging open, gasping for air.</div> <bR> <div> <I>You'll be heading off to DC in a few weeks and I know you have some things you need to sort out here.  I just . . . I wish you all the best, Jack.  I really hope you'll stay in touch.</I></div> <bR> <div> He wants to shake my hand?  I'm standing here, dumbstruck and can't even gather enough wits to raise my own hand to . . .</div> <bR> <div> <I>I see.  Okay, I'll, uh, I'll go pack up and have Teal'c drive me to the airport once they get back.</I></div> <bR> <div> Leaving.  Just like that.  Wait.  Wait!  "Daniel!"  Seems all I can say tonight is his name.</div> <bR> <div> "Sorry I said anything, Jack.  Sorry I said anything at all."</div> <bR> <div> The whole confession's taken about an hour and I hear the crunch of tires as Carter and Teal'c come back up the road.  Dammit, not now!  Not now!</div> <bR> <div> "We had a productive trip, O'Neill," Teal'c grins as he pulls full-to-bursting grocery bags from the back seat of the truck.  "The local purveyor of dead bovines was having a . . . sale.  We procured many fine steaks."</div> <bR> <div> "Yeah, that's great, T."  I brush past him and into the house, heading straight for the room he and Daniel are sharing.</div> <bR> <div> "Has something happened, O'Neill?" he asks me, immediately on guard.</div> <bR> <div> "Just . . .uh . . . give me a minute in here with Daniel, huh?  Keep Carter occupied for a few."</div> <bR> <div> I get 'the scowl' and a slight bow of the head and call it good.  I can hear Daniel rustling around in the bedroom and I knock lightly on the door before walking in.  With a light shove, I push the door closed behind me.  "Stop it."</div> <bR> <div> "I'm not doing anything," Daniel snarls back as he folds one of his sweaters neatly before placing it in his suitcase.</div> <bR> <div> "You're packing.  Stop it."</div> <bR> <div> "One has to pack a suitcase *before* one goes on a trip, Jack.  It's how things are done."</div> <bR> <div> "Daniel.  Please."  I sound desperate and I know it.  Hell, I am.  I don't know what the fuck to do.  I've never been good at shit like this.  Then again, *this* has never really happened to me before.  Hero worship, sure . . . but this?  Holy crap.</div> <bR> <div> "I said stop."  My voice is hard edged and I know it.  I've also just put my hand over one of Daniel's as he's stuffing the shirt into his bag.  His eyes are cold as ice when he looks at me.</div> <bR> <div> "Let go."</div> <bR> <div> When did Daniel become such a bad ass?  I take my hand away slowly and squeeze it in a fist before dropping it at my side.  "You don't have to go."</div> <bR> <div> "Yes, I do."  The packing begins again.</div> <bR> <div> "Carter's not staying."</div> <bR> <div> "Sure she is."</div> <bR> <div> "She thinks she is.  She's not."</div> <bR> <div> "You haven't exactly dissuaded her."  Daniel rummages around in the drawers and pulls out more shirts.</div> <bR> <div> "I didn't know if I wanted to or not."</div> <bR> <div> "I already told you, I'm not getting in the middle of that."</div> <bR> <div> That's when it hits me.  If Carter and I do give into our baser instincts to rut like a couple of dogs in heat, Daniel doesn't want to be here to see the aftermath.  Quite honestly, I don't want to be here to see it, either.</div> <bR> <div> "It's not going to happen."</div> <bR> <div> "It should.  You two deserve some happiness."</div> <bR> <div> "We sure as hell won't be finding that with each other, I can tell you that right now."</div> <bR> <div> Daniel stands up straight and looks me straight in the eye.  "Do you have any idea *what* you want?"</div> <bR> <div> "Yes," I say as simply as I can.  "I want you to stay."</div> <bR> <div> "What if this were Sam packing.  What would you say then?"</div> <bR> <div> "Teal'c could drive her?"  I wince, knowing it's probably the wrong way of putting it, but something seems to click over in Daniel.</div> <bR> <div> He sags down onto the bed, elbows on his knees, face in his hands.  "Don't do this to me."</div> <bR> <div> "Daniel, I swear to God, I have no idea *what* I'm doing."  And I mean that on so many levels it isn't anywhere close to funny.</div> <bR> <div> "Don't hold out false hope . . . don't make me . . . want . . . things you can't or won't give just because you don't know how to deal with the situation."</div> <bR> <div> "Look," I say after a minute, sitting down on the other side of his suitcase.  "You know me.  You gotta know that you've just dropped a goddamned big bomb on me and now I'm out here flying blind.  I don't know what I'm saying or doing . . . I just know that you leaving isn't what I want to happen.  Okay?  Just, stick around for the rest of the week . . . like we all planned.  Then, when Friday comes and it's time for Teal'c and Carter to head back, we'll stay here for another couple days and . . . I dunno . . . talk?  Maybe?"</div> <bR> <div> Daniel's eyes are so dark and lifeless right now, I feel like I did when he died and ascended.  Please don't look at me like that, Daniel.  I'm doing the best I can.</div> <bR> <div> "And then what?  You'll pat me on the head, send me on my way with a 'we'll still be friends' speech and I'll watch as contact with you grows less and less over the coming months?  I'd rather just leave now.  Clean and quick."</div> <bR> <div> I understand - I do.  It's what Sara had to do.  "I can't force you to stay.  I can only ask that you don't leave.  I make no promises except to try and work this out so we *don't* lose almost ten years of one of the best friendships I have ever been lucky enough to have in my life."</div> <bR> <div> Daniel gives me one of his defeated little smiles and nods.  It's reflex, the pat on the shoulder as I get up to leave.  Suddenly my gut clenches at the thought of not being able to do that ever again.</div> <bR> <div> I walk back out into the living room and see Carter and Teal'c getting the steaks ready for grilling.  One thing about T, he has taken to the art of barbequing like an old pro.</div> <bR> <div> "Everything okay, sir?" Carter asks, all blue eyes and soft smiles.  Why do I feel like she's hiding a knife just ready to plunge into Daniel's heart?</div> <bR> <div> "Yeah, fine.  Just had something I needed to talk over with Daniel for a minute."</div> <bR> <div> "I have prepared four large steaks for our meal.  I believe a time limit of one hour will suffice if they are *all* to be cooked to within the prescribed parameters."</div> <bR> <div> This is Teal'c way of being subtle and asking if Daniel's eating dinner with us.  He's a clever guy, once you learn to understand him.</div> <bR> <div> "Low and slow," I nod.  "Now you're talking."</div> <bR> <div> "There was great corn on sale, too," Carter pipes in as she wraps the last cob in foil.  "Looks like they got a fresh load of red potatoes and . . ."</div> <bR> <div> "So, Carter," I break in, not able to take the domestic-speak at the moment, "that position at Area 51 is still available."</div> <bR> <div> I see her stop mid-sentence and switch mental gears.  "Yes, sir.  I'd heard."</div> <bR> <div> "You mean to tell me you still haven't put your name in yet?"</div> <bR> <div> Come on Carter, take the high road here.</div> <bR> <div> "Well I . . . I didn't know if there'd be some *other* posting available.  One more . . . challenging."</div> <bR> <div> "You can't mean going back to D.C.?"</div> <bR> <div> Daniel steps out of the bedroom as he speaks.  I turn to see him and am nearly overwhelmed with relief as I see no suitcase in his hand or on the bed.  Looks like he's unpacked all his clothes again as well.  I let out a tightly held breath and kick out a chair for him at the table.  He takes a seat without acknowledgment.</div> <bR> <div> "It *is* where the majority of the work is being done," Carter says firmly.</div> <bR> <div> "Bureaucratic work," I chime in.  "Carter, everyone knows your brain needs to be in a lab and working on getting the Daedelus up and flying.  Who better to do that than the woman who can leap alien technologies in a single bound?"</div> <bR> <div> She shrugs self consciously.  "I don't know, sir.  I just thought maybe Washington is where I should be."</div> <bR> <div> Daniel turns his head pointedly toward me with that 'I told you so' set to his jaw.  Bastard.  I fucking hate it when he's right every freakin' time.</div> <bR> <div> "Be one of the biggest mistakes you ever made, Carter," I tell her with every ounce of authority I have in me.  "But the decision's not mine to make."</div> <bR> <div> And for the second time in one night, I see incredible pain shining through blue eyes.  Sorry, Carter, but you've really got to learn to get a grip on things . . . just not me.</div> <bR> <div> "Then I guess I'll be putting in my request for transfer when I get back on Monday," she says evenly.</div> <bR> <div> "You should be back in time to get it in to Hammond by Friday night."</div> <bR> <div> There.  I did it.  Just slammed and locked that door in her face.  I can see the stain of anger touch her cheeks but she covers it well.  She offers a smile and a nod and goes on about getting dinner ready.  Daniel's got a look on his face like he's certain I have just lost the ability to use any and all brain cells.  He may well be right.</div> <bR> <div> ++++</div> <bR> <div> I will say this about my team . . . no matter what the circumstances, we can pack away some food.  Daniel's on his second baked potato, Carter's just put away her fourth ear of corn.  The steaks, huge as they were didn't last ten minutes, and now we're starting to wonder if we should take one of those pre-baked pies out of the freezer for dessert.  This will cost me a few extra miles on my morning run.  Shit.  Daniel's gone to take out the pie.</div> <bR> <div> And he's just found the ice cream.  Jesus H.</div> <bR> <div> Coffee's on, we're all flopped over every available piece of furniture, Carter's gotten out the Bailey's . . . looks like we're gonna have one of *those* kind of nights.  I've had enough deep sharing for one day.  Looks like the kids want to talk, though.</div> <bR> <div> Somewhere between my second piece of pie and my third trip to the bathroom, Carter falls asleep on the couch and ends up in Daniel and Teal'c's room.  Teal'c insists he cannot sleep in the same room as Daniel as the snoring is far too disturbing.  I squint at Teal'c and see that damned smug look on his face.  He's a conniving bastard.  Looks like Daniel's bunking in with me.  We clean up, do the nightly rituals, and head off for our respective rooms, or in Teal'c's case, hide-a-bed.</div> <bR> <div> I walk into my room, close the door and see Daniel standing at the foot of the bed, hands on hips, looking at it like it's a living thing.</div> <bR> <div> "I had nothing to do with this," he states flatly.</div> <bR> <div> I can't help but chuckle.  "I know," I say and groan as I sit down on the edge of the bed.  "Teal'c seems to have a plan."</div> <bR> <div> "I had nothing to do with that, either."</div> <bR> <div> "I know that, too," I grunt as I yank back the covers and slide my legs in under the sheets.  "Get in or sleep on the floor, Daniel."  I reach up and click off the bedside lamp, letting him find his way in the light flooding through the windows from the full moon.</div> <bR> <div> Sometime later, maybe a couple hours or so, I wake up.  Nothing in particular has bothered me, and heaven knows I'm more than used to sleeping with Daniel by my side.  I just wake up.  I turn my head and sure enough, there he is.  He's on his stomach, sprawled out as far as a man can get.  Good thing I have a king sized bed.  His face is turned away from me, but I hear the soft puffs of breaths as he breathes steadily, deeply.  I roll over and shove that part of my brain aside that is screaming at me about my absolutely rampant heterosexuality.  I just want to look - just for a minute and see if I can even *imagine* another man in . . . *that* . . . way.</div> <bR> <div> Daniel's a handsome guy, I admit that.  Doesn't take a woman to see it.  He's got movie-star good looks and he knows it.  Not in a conceited way, but he doesn't worry about asking people out and being turned down flat.  Daniel's been around - way more than people think.  I've heard the stories . . . hell, I've seen the hickeys when we've been in the showers on base.  Some of the places he's sported those love bites have been pretty damned impressive, too.  He's built - no denying that.  Always has been, really.  Even when he first came into the program, he was all lean, straight limbs - strong as hell though.  Teal'c's helped him bulk up, put on some pretty impressive muscle.  It's his skin that surprises me.  Looks like that dessert . . . what's it . . . creme brflée or whatever the hell it is.  Soft and rich, melted golden on the outside.  Men shouldn't have skin like that.  Men should be kinda rough and . . . scratchy - not looking like a model for some male skin care product.  And I've touched that skin - many times.  In battle, in the infirmary . . . but never noticed what it felt like.  My hand itches with wanting to touch now.  How weird is that?</div> <bR> <div> I drop my eyes, follow the line of his body.  Daniel's got one tight, round little ass.  I've always envied his ass.  Mine's kinda flat, starting to sag.  Daniel - you could bounce a quarter off that thing.  Women love his ass - I've heard them say so.  My ass never gets mentioned in comparison.  Does that mean women don't like my ass?  Maybe I should put in more time on the bike back home.  I'll have to think about that.</div> <bR> <div> Legs.  Daniel is made of legs.  It's something people would never know unless they saw him less dressed than he usually is . . . like now . . . or in the showers.  Longest legs I've ever seen - next to my own.  Mine aren't like his - they used to be - but they sure aren't any more.  I got these arthritic, knobbled-up knees; scarred, hairy, scratchy things.  Daniel looks like he was carved out of a single piece of flawless marble.</div> <bR> <div> I'm a little stunned, but . . . Daniel really is beautiful.  From shaggy brown hair right down to his march-worn feet.  Huh.  There's a realization I never thought I'd have.</div> <bR> <div> He's looking at me.  I just noticed.  He's turned his head and is looking at me with sleepy, peaceful eyes.  There's a small smile, and then he turns away, settles into the blankets and heads back off to sleep.</div> <bR> <div> ++++</div> <bR> <div> It's been a few hours now and I've been laying here thinking.  Thinking about Daniel and me.  Me and Daniel.  The two of us.  A pair.  Dos compadres.</div> <bR> <div> I better get up and make some coffee.</div> <bR> <div> Ever since Abydos it's always been me and him.  When it all comes down to brass tacks, it's the two of us who get things done.  Daniel works the human angle, I work the strategic, and somehow, some way - we get through it.  Maybe not pretty, but against some of the people and things we've been up against, I'll take the ugly win over the loss any day.</div> <bR> <div> Daniel's a good man.  Kind.  Good, good heart.  He's seen so much shit, been through so much, and he still looks at the world through eyes full of hope.  He sees me that way.  There's a humbling thought for ya.  He still believes in me.  I don't know why he should.  I don't.  I stopped believing in me a long time ago.  Yeah, I need to get up and get coffee going.</div> <bR> <div> Hmmm, there's still pie.</div> <bR> <div> I put the coffee on, grab a slice and wait for the machine to give me some wake up juice.  Everyone thinks it's Daniel who's addicted to coffee . . . ha.  It's me.  I cannot function in the mornings without this stuff.</div> <bR> <div> Halfway through my first cup and piece of pie, Daniel stumbles blearily out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.  He's squinting at the brightness of the light, absently scratching at the hair under his navel.  He better do something about those scrub bottoms or they're gonna fall right off.</div> <bR> <div> "It's three thirty," he whines at the same time he's grabbing a cup and a plate.</div> <bR> <div> "I was awake."</div> <bR> <div> "You aren't doing something obscene like . . . going fishing, are you?"</div> <bR> <div> I smile.  His voice is still snuffly and congested like it usually gets in the mornings before he's had a chance to get a dose of antihistamines on board.  "No.  Just couldn't sleep."</div> <bR> <div> He practically falls into the chair and yawns, his jaw popping.  "You okay?"</div> <bR> <div> I nod.  Sure.  One of the best male friends of my whole life just announced he's in love with me.  And I think, in my own screwed up way, I may return those feelings.  Why wouldn't I be fine?</div> <bR> <div> I hear a snort of pleasure and see Daniel with his mouth crammed full of coconut cream pie.  "Mmmmpppfff," he grunts again and takes a sip of coffee.  That's Daniel-speak for "worth it."</div> <bR> <div> Something inside me goes a little sideways when I realize how we've come to know each other so well.  For instance, he's gonna have a headache tomorrow because he keeps swivelling his neck around, trying to undo a kink that's worked it's way in there.  Probably from sleeping on his stomach - he usually sleeps on his back.  I get up, get the aspirin from the cupboard over the sink and set the bottle down in front of him.  He looks at me, brow furrowed.</div> <bR> <div> "You've got a headache coming on," I say blandly and go back to my pie.</div> <bR> <div> He swallows and reaches for the container.  "And you knew this . . . how?"</div> <bR> <div> "You keep trying to pop your neck."</div> <bR> <div> "Ah," he says with understanding.  "Thanks."  He downs two of the tablets and goes back to eating.</div> <bR> <div> Something warm settles over me and I push the remnants of the pie crust around my plate as I try to pin it down.  Would it be so hard to imagine . . . the two of us . . . together?  The sense of warmth grows a little bigger.  Is holding him while he sleeps really any different than holding him while he cries?  I look across at him and he raises his eyes to meet mine.  I feel something pass between us but I don't really have a name for it.  </div> <bR> <div> "Think I'll turn back in," Daniel yawns.</div> <bR> <div> "Yeah," I say.  "Me too."</div> <bR> <div> We put the plates in the sink, turn off the coffee machine and shuffle back toward the bedroom.  Back where we started, only this time he's on his side, back to me.</div> <bR> <div> Takes me almost an hour to make my decision, to give this a try.  I scoot up behind him, fit my body to his, slide an arm over his waist.  I feel him wake and tense, then relax slightly.</div> <bR> <div> "This okay?" I whisper.</div> <bR> <div> "Yeah," he says quietly.  "You okay with it?"</div> <bR> <div> "Yeah."</div> <bR> <div> Suddenly I'm surrounded by that feeling of warmth that makes me lethargic and boneless and I realize what I feel is . . . safe.</div> <bR> <bR> <div> ++++</div> <bR> <div> Someone please unwind Carter.  She's driving me out of my mind.  Flitting around, nervous as a bird, trying too hard to say and do all the right things.  Daniel and I exchange a glance but he just goes back to his book.</div> <bR> <div> "Carter, will you please . . . sit . . . down.  You're wearing me out just watching you."</div> <bR> <div> "You know, I could probably arrange that book collection, maybe by author . . ."</div> <bR> <div> "Carter!"  Jesus, what has gotten into the woman?</div> <bR> <div> She wrinkles up her nose and looks around.  "It's just . . . there's nothing to *do* here . . . sir."</div> <bR> <div> "That's the point," I tell her slowly.  "We're reeelaaaaxing."</div> <bR> <div> "I believe ColonelCarter suffers from the same malady that beset me upon my initial visit here," Teal'c intones from his place on the couch.</div> <bR> <div> "Bored out of her mind?" I ask.</div> <bR> <div> "Indeed."</div> <bR> <div> I let the book I'm reading drop into my lap.  "You won't hurt my feelings if you want to leave."</div> <bR> <div> "It's not that," Carter begins but she can't find a way to finish.</div> <bR> <div> "Look, Teal'c can take the truck, leave it in the lot.  I'll call a cab when I'm ready to go, head up to the airport and get it.  Don't worry about it."</div> <bR> <div> "I'm sorry, sir.  I guess I just need more . . . distractions."</div> <bR> <div> "It's alright, Carter.  Not everyone's cut out for the Minnesota woods."</div> <bR> <div> "I'll just . . . put my things in the truck and we can go."  Carter looks at Teal'c who gives her a nod.</div> <bR> <div> "I have already prepared for departure," he says with a small smile.</div> <bR> <div> "You coming, Daniel?" Sam asks, her tone edged with a little bit of ice.</div> <bR> <div> "Nope, I'm good," he states from the pages of his book.  "I'll see you guys back at the Mountain."  He leisurely turns a page and keeps reading.</div> <bR> <div> I agree to drive them, save the hassle of retrieving my truck later.  By the time I get back, Daniel's got dinner cooking - some chicken stew he makes that's pretty damned tasty - and he's sitting outside on the dock, nose still buried in the same book . . . just farther along.</div> <bR> <div> My stomach's got some butterflies, now that we're alone.  Will he try something?  Should I?  What if I totally hate it?  Although sleeping all wrapped around him was nice . . . very nice.</div> <bR> <div> "Grab me a beer, will ya?" he hollers from outside and it breaks me out of my reverie.  I give my head a shake as I reach into the fridge.  Maybe nothing has to happen at all.</div> <bR> <div> I bring out the brews, grab the chair next to Daniel, put my feet up on the ice chest we left on the dock and let out a sigh of relief.</div> <bR> <div> "Sam and Teal'c get off okay?" he asks as he casually turns a page.</div> <bR> <div> "Yeah.  Caught an earlier flight than they thought.  They should be home this evening."</div> <bR> <div> Daniel nods and goes back to concentrating.  He's not faking it either.  Daniel and Harry Potter books are a romance story all their own.  Don't try and get between him and the infamous Mugworts - or whatever the hell they're called.  And he accuses me of being a kid.</div> <bR> <div> I pick up the fishing rod lying on the boards by my chair, cast the lure out into the water and begin reeling it in, nice and slow.  No rush.  The fish will bite eventually.  They always do.  Despite what that other guy said in the video tape.  No fish . . . yeah right.</div> <bR> <div> We sit for a while, enjoy the afternoon.  Daniel grunts in annoyance at something in the book and flips the page with a bit of anger.  Plot must be thickening.  If it could just stay like this . . . so relaxed, so at ease.  I'm headed for D.C., Daniel's headed for Atlantis, supposedly, when we find a way to get him there and back on a regular basis.</div> <bR> <div> And let's not forget the big one.  I'm straight.  Guys don't do it for me on any level.  Oh sure, back in the day there were the circle jerks here and there and all guys experiment when they're pretty young.  But you can't know what you like if you don't try things out, right?  My sexual identity was set pretty early in my teens and I've had no questions about it since.</div> <bR> <div> Till now.</div> <bR> <div> How the hell Daniel gets me to question even the most basic truth about something I will never, ever know.  But I do know one thing.  Daniel's starting to do it for me in a very primal way . . . and it just shouldn't feel so normal.</div> <bR> <div> "Could you keep it down over there?"</div> <bR> <div> I turn my head toward the man beside me.</div> <bR> <div> "You think much harder and your head's going to explode.  All over me, I might add, and I don't know my way back to the airport from here."  Daniel closes the book, which he's apparently finished.</div> <bR> <div> Smart ass.  "Enjoy your book?"</div> <bR> <div> "More than you enjoyed fishing.  You've had a bite for the last twenty minutes."</div> <bR> <div> With that he gets up to go tend to his boiling chicken, leaving me to deal with a crappie that has impaled itself upon the hook.</div> <bR> <div> Once I release the uninjured fish, I move to join Daniel in the kitchen.  He simply pushes a paring knife and a mound of potatoes in my direction.  I can take a hint.  And I'm definitely no stranger to KP duty.</div> <bR> <div> "So."  Daniel continues to meticulously dice carrots into perfectly square chunks.</div> <bR> <div> "So."  Long ribbons of peel fall to the counter from my knife.</div> <bR> <div> "We should probably talk."</div> <bR> <div> "Yeah, I guess," I say, placing the cleaned root in the sink full of cold water.</div> <bR> <div> "I don't expect you to . . ."</div> <bR> <div> "Daniel," I say in attempt to head off the same sort of thing that happened yesterday.  "I think it's pretty obvious that there's more to our friendship than either one of us ever . . . thought."</div> <bR> <div> "When I first met you, I didn't think I'd be able to even stand in the same room with you, let alone ever be able to *like* you."</div> <bR> <div> "That's saying something," I try and joke.  "You like everybody."</div> <bR> <div> "I never liked Apophis.  Or Ra.  They were never at the top of my holiday card list."</div> <bR> <div> The man sounds more like me every day.  It makes me feel . . . I don't know . . . good, I guess.  Not everyone rubs off on Daniel.</div> <bR> <div> "I get cards from you," I say proudly.</div> <bR> <div> "You do, don't you?" Daniel answers, as if suddenly realizing this truth for the first time himself.  "Huh."</div> <bR> <div> "Look, about this morning."  I go back to peeling so I don't have to look at those eyes.  "I was just trying to show you . . . let you know . . ."  I sigh.  Know what?  Even I don't know what it is I wanted him to know.</div> <bR> <div> "You care?"</div> <bR> <div> A half-shrug, half-nod.  "I more than care, Daniel."</div> <bR> <div> "I like physical touch," he comes out with suddenly and I nearly hack off my thumb.</div> <bR> <div> Once I get my startled nervous system back under control, I give him a disgusted look.</div> <bR> <div> "Sorry."  He readjusts his glasses and goes on.  "My point is, it won't matter to me that your hand isn't a female hand - because it will be *you* who touches me and I like being touched by people I care about."</div> <bR> <div> Daniel wants me to touch him, and being the crass and graphic man I am, my mind goes straight to fisting his dick while he groans in pleasure and the next thing I know, I'm trying to shove my hard-on against the side of the counter in an effort to keep it hidden.</div> <bR> <div> "My heart pretty much doesn't care that you're male," he finishes quietly.  "Not anymore."</div> <bR> <div> Silence settles over us as we continue to work and by the time we have the next stage of the stew fixed and we've cleaned and wiped everything we can at least twice, I know what I need to do.</div> <bR> <div> I owe him this much at least.  Hell, I owe *me* this much.</div> <bR> <div> Before he turns to leave, I stop him with a touch to his arm, step into his personal space, put my hands on either side of his head . . . and lean in to kiss him.  It's awkward, clumsy, stiff and there's no way in hell I'm letting him pull back until he either knocks me on my ass or gives in and kisses back.</div> <bR> <div> And when he does . . . oh, when he does.  He's all soft, moist lips and flicking tongue, bold and shy all at the same time.  I'm not sure when it happened, but at some point our arms worked around waists and shoulders and necks and when I came back to my senses, I had him backed against the wall in the kitchen, leaning against him with my full weight, one hand up in the back of his hair and the other riding pretty low on his ass and hip.</div> <bR> <div> I shouldn't like this.  I should be freaked right out of my mind.  I'm not.  The feel of his strength pushed tight against me, the firm swell of the muscles under his skin, the non-feminine taste of his mouth, it gets me hot.  No other way to put it.  Daniel is singularly male and something about that zings through my nuts and makes me want to rub every inch of him with every inch of me . . . depositing my own scent over his.</div> <bR> <div> Claiming him.  Owning him.  While he does the same to me.</div> <bR> <div> I pull away, breathing hard, looking into eyes that have gone from that amazing electric blue to a color that belongs in a deep ocean at midnight.</div> <bR> <div> "Holy shit, Daniel."</div> <bR> <div> "Yeah, no kidding."</div> <bR> <div> He licks his lips and I follow his tongue with my eyes, my tongue swiping over my lower lip in response.</div> <bR> <div> "Did you want to, uh . . ."  Daniel nods toward the bedroom.</div> <bR> <div> "I don't know," I say honestly, sounding pathetically indecisive to my own ears.  What I want to do is rip off his pants, rip off mine, and hump him against the wall, letting my balls trail all over that silky skin.</div> <bR> <div> "We either do it in there or we drop down and do it right here.  I'm so hard I hurt and you are not leaving me like this."</div> <bR> <div> Daniel grabs the front of my shirt, his fists knotting into the fabric and I can feel the physical need in him.  No, no I don't want to leave him in that condition any more than I want to be left there, either.</div> <bR> <div> "Bedroom," I breathe.  "Get on the bed."</div> <bR> <div> Yanking clothes off, stumbling over each other, managing to snatch bits of kisses along the way, we finally tumble on the bed and all I feel is hard, warm heat over me, grinding slow and easy against my own aching balls and dick.</div> <bR> <div> "Oh god," I hear as he shifts position over me and I feel his long, hard cock slide down under my balls and wedge into the crack of my ass.  "Oh god god god."</div> <bR> <div> And then it starts . . . that slow rhythm.  The angle of his body rubs my cock hard between us and rocks my balls up and down slightly as I respond to the rubbing of Daniel's hips against mine, finding a counter rhythm that seems so natural . . . instinctual.</div> <bR> <div> This is way better than it should be and not as good as he deserves.  His cock is leaking pre-come like mad, easing the way back and forth as he thrusts steadily against me.  Lips and tongue and teeth are all over my upper body.  Daniel's feasting on me like a starving man.  His skin is hot, sweaty and I feel small tremors beneath the surface of his skin as a thrust proves especially satisfying.</div> <bR> <div> I open my eyes and just watch him move.  Watch the slow, liquid way his hips move up and down, rolling a little to keep everything where he wants it.  He looks hot when he fucks - when he humps me like a dog in heat.</div> <bR> <div> The thought spears my gut in a beautifully painful way and I can't help but groan, which inflames him more.  He circles his hips and I think how incredible it would be to watch him in a video as he fucks someone long and slow.</div> <bR> <div> "It's not enough, Jack," he whispers pitifully in my ear.  "Not enough."</div> <bR> <div> "What do you need?" I pant back.  At this point I'd offer my ass right up.  He fucking owns me and he doesn't even know it.</div> <bR> <div> "Something, tighter.  Rougher."  He shoves my hand down to grab his wet, slick cock.  "Please?  Please, Jack?"</div> <bR> <div> I feel his hand wrap around my own dick and I buck up into his hand.</div> <bR> <div> "How do you like it?"  It's so hard to think, almost impossible to keep my mind on what I'm doing for him and not just let him take me over the edge.</div> <bR> <div> "Hard," he says roughly, his voice raspy and nasty.  "Hard as you can."</div> <bR> <div> My mind flashes to a naked Daniel, laying in his bed at home, hand wrapped around his cock as he powers himself into an orgasm because there was no one else there to do it for him.</div> <bR> <div> Well, I'm here now, and if he wants it hard . . .</div> <bR> <div> "OH!  Shit!  Yes, godammit, yes!"</div> <bR> <div> Daniel slams his hips forward and back in counterpoint to my fist whipping up and down the throbbing, hard shaft.  He's doing the same thing to me as we lie on our sides and drag each other over the edge into the sheer bliss of release.</div> <bR> <div> When I manage to convince my breathing to slow and my groin to stop howling in protest at the tight grip Daniel still has on me, I open my eyes and look at Daniel who seems to be going through the same process as me.</div> <bR> <div> We release each other carefully, hands covered with come and sweat.  I go to say something, anything but Daniel stops me with a shake of his head, pulls himself from my loose embrace and staggers to the bathroom.  I hear water running, a little splashing and then he walks out with two towels . . . one wet, one dry . . . hands them to me, then moves to the foot of the bed and falls bonelessly onto his back.</div> <bR> <div> I clean up carefully . . . my dick feels like it's nearly been yanked off . . . toss the towels onto the floor and cover my face with my arms.</div> <bR> <div> "Need me to leave?" he asks after several minutes.</div> <bR> <div> "No," I say honestly.  "No."  I smile a bit.  "Not ever."</div> <bR> <div> I can't see it, I don't hear him say anything, but I can feel him smile.  He pushes closer to me, lifts up my right leg to lay it over his chest, rests his head on the inside of my left thigh, and turns his head to nuzzle along the side of my balls.</div> <bR> <div> "Daniel," I warn, feeling my balls tighten defensively.</div> <bR> <div> "Ssssh," he breaths and begins to lick languorously at the point where thigh meets groin.  "Just let me enjoy this."</div> <bR> <div> His meaning is clear.  In a few weeks, I'll be gone, as will he, and the time we'll have is despairingly short.  I remember the day before as this complicated yet simple man bared his heart and soul to me because soon it would be too late to say or do anything about what he felt.</div> <bR> <div> "You take your time," I say, tangling my fingers gently in the damp strands of Daniel's hair.  "Take all the time you want."</div> <bR> <div> When I look into those blue, blue eyes now, it isn't pain or doubt or fear I see and something inside me changes.  Not just my view of the relationship I have with this most amazing man, but the view of myself.  I'm proud of myself for shoving all my firmly held beliefs out of the way long enough to let this incredible possibility take hold.</div> <bR> <div> Not bad for an old guy.  Not bad at all.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> ~finis~</div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="mailto:claforce@plotexpo.com" TARGET="_top" TITLE="mailto:claforce@plotexpo.com"><U>Give the author's ego a marshmallow . . . please feed the bear.</U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id3_sg1_slash.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Stargate SG1 Slash Fiction"><U>Back to Fic List</U></A>     <A HREF="id2_directory.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Directory Listing"><U>Back to Directory</U></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" rowspan="2" width=120 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000" 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