NOT YOUR OBVIOUS CUPID, CERTAINLY BY BIBLIO

"I have been observing you observing DanielJackson."

O'Neill shrugs in answer as if he has no interest in DanielJackson. "Are we sparring or not?" he demands.

"We will spar," I decide, watching as O'Neill does his strange ritual dance from foot to foot, jabbing into the air before his face.  "You appear greatly in need of relieving your tension."

O'Neill's feet still, his gloved hands dropping to his sides.  Beneath the protective headgear, his face is puzzled.  "I'm not tense."

I raise an eyebrow to express my disbelief, which appears to goad O'Neill, though this is not difficult to do.  "Indeed you are."

"I am not!" O'Neill hollers.

My friend's capacity to deceive himself fails to astonish only him.  "It is sexual tension," I announce firmly.  O'Neill emits a wheezing sound, his face flushing most pronouncedly, appearing ungrateful when I smack him firmly across the back to assist him to breathe again.  Then I assist him to his feet and hold him up while he fails to recover his composure.

"I am merely assisting you, I am not making advances toward you," I feel compelled to explain.  Now, O'Neill is tense.  It is possible I have just been insulted.

"That's…good," he says slowly, irritably shrugging off my supporting hands.

I retreat and wait as O'Neill takes several deep, calming breaths then furiously demands to know what the hell I have been watching now.  Did he not warn me to stay away from Jerry Springer after the unfortunate incident with Major Carter?  I concede this is the truth.  I further concede that I will not again discuss the subject of the winding down of her body clock with Major Carter, a Tau'ri concept I find fascinating.   Major Carter did not share my fascination with the concept, nor did she wish to speak of it.

"I have not been watching Jerry Springer," I inform O'Neill.  "I have been observing you watching DanielJackson."

"He can't keep out of trouble for five minutes," O'Neill explains sullenly.

"In the showers which we share?" I enquire politely, awaiting his answer with interest.  "I see. Then it would appear the communal showers on base are, in your opinion, an extremely hazardous place for DanielJackson to be indeed.  You are remarkably vigilant on his behalf during the occasions both of you are simultaneously using the facilities. Considering the inordinate amount of time you devote to watching it are you of the opinion his 'ass' requires more protection than any other portion of his anatomy?"

O'Neill's jaw drops as he flushes even more furiously than before.  To borrow one of his own colourful idioms, he 'makes like a guppy'.

I realise I have been tactless.  Bowing in acknowledgement of this, I offer an apology.  "Forgive me, Colonel O'Neill.  Given the true nature of your interest in DanielJackson, his 'ass' is indeed the most imperilled portion of his anatomy."

"The nature…"

"Of your interest."

"Wha - whaa?"

"You heard me, O'Neill."

O'Neill seems to be having great difficulty grasping this simple concept.  As his brother, I feel most keenly my obligation to help him to attain understanding.

"Are you not attracted to DanielJackson?  Do you not wish to have intercourse with him?"

As I say this, O'Neill apparently urgently feels the need to sit, thudding gracelessly onto the padded floor of the gymnasium.  I am surprised, for I have not hit him yet.

I sit facing him, removing my boxing gloves and place my hands upturned on my knees, as if I were composing myself for Kel'No'Reem, a ritual that both DanielJackson and O'Neill find soothing to observe when they are themselves troubled.

"Why would you…why…?" O'Neill asks me, truly bewildered.

"You are deeply in love with DanielJackson," I gently inform him.  "I have observed your struggle with your feelings for him for some time."

"Is it obvious?" O'Neill hisses, appalled, as pale as he was flushed moments ago.

"Not to DanielJackson," I assure him.

"Thank Christ!" O'Neill sighs gustily, scrubbing his hands over his eyes.

I find his concern for DanielJackson's sensitivity most gratifying.  Our little brother is vulnerable to his very passionate feelings for us.  I have thought for many months now that though there is room in Daniel's generous heart for all of his friends, it is O'Neill who has captured his soul.  However, as he appears to be completely unaware of the complicated nature of O'Neill's regard for him I fear it is in the best interests of both these men for someone to talk with Daniel and inform him of the reality and scope of his friend's affections.

It is, however, infinitely preferable that 'someone' should be O'Neill.

"Can you not speak with DanielJackson?" I enquire of O'Neill, commiserating with him in his unhappiness.  "Does he not deserve to know of your love for him?"

"And when he has to turn me down flat because he doesn't feel the same, what then?" O'Neill snarls, angry and defensive.  "Where does that leave him?"

I am proud of my brother, that his fear in this is not for himself but for the one he loves.

"I'm not going to hurt him like that," O'Neill states with flat finality.

I sit silently while he wrenches off his boxing gloves only to pluck at the grey fabric of his customary grey sweatpants in a vain attempt to calm his agitation.

"You do not say that it is wrong for you to be together," I point out at last, intrigued by this, for O'Neill is most dedicated to his career in the Tau'ri military and to his responsibilities as the team leader of SG-1.  I am as aware as he that the regulations forbid such a union.  I am pleased that in this at least he is capable of rational thought.

"Neither do you," he acknowledges with some surprise.  "You're putting a whole new spin on the Jaffa brotherly love thing."

"If you speak of taking a lover among one's brother warriors, it is not unknown amongst my people," I respond with the calm dignity that seems to annoy him so much.  "Though honour forbids the taking of a lover by any man who is bound by duty to wife and family."

"I have an obligation to the team," O'Neill stubbornly insists.

"You have an obligation to be true," I retort.  "I do not speak lightly of this matter, O'Neill.  You have not been kind to DanielJackson of late.  He grows increasingly unsure of his place in your affections as each day goes by.  I have witnessed his strength falling away from him, I have seen his unhappiness, his doubt in himself and in you.  I wish this to cease and for all to be well between you."

"Daniel is the strongest person I know!" O'Neill stridently protests.  "He doesn't need anyone or anything.  He manages to get by just fine on his own."

I begin to perceive the real truth of the matter.  O'Neill is deeply in love with Daniel, so much so he cannot be without him, but he is in denial of his need.   "Do you not know that DanielJackson measures himself in your eyes?  How can you love him and reject what he believes?  In so doing, you reject all that he is.  Each time you do this, you make it more difficult for our brother to keep his faith in you."

O'Neill's silence is one of bitterness and resentment. He knows full well that I am right in this but he will not acknowledge the truth of it.

"If you fear to damage the team by taking DanielJackson as your lover, you must ask yourself if you are doing any less damage by continuing to deny him.  Do you believe it will affect your ability to command if you and Daniel are having intercourse?"

"Will you stop saying that!" O'Neill snaps, scarlet to the roots of his hair.

Humans are reticent about sexual relations with their loved ones.  I do not understand this.  "I believe sexual gratification will relax you greatly."

"I'm relaxed now!" O'Neill howls.

"Then it will relax Major Carter and myself," I respond equably.

"It's against regulations," O'Neill announces.  He looks around nervously, then mouths 'sex' conspiratorially.

"You have never followed regulations when they conflict with your own beliefs and desires."  O'Neill grows angry once more.  I sense I have been tactless again but I must secure his agreement. "I have witnessed many times…"

"Yes!  I've got it, thank you!"

"Are you repressed?" I ask, still endeavouring to understand his failure to speak with DanielJackson of this matter.  My brother is no coward and yet he fears to speak.  I am grateful for my viewing of the television programmes of the Tau'ri.  They use language as a weapon and hide behind it as a shield, obfuscating what they wish to conceal with friend and foe alike.  Any man would be fortunate to secure DanielJackson's affections but O'Neill will not admit this to me or to himself.

Once again O'Neill remains silent.  I see that I have spoken in haste and I ask O'Neill's forgiveness for stating the truth so bluntly.  Were he not repressed, it would not be necessary for us to be having this most difficult discussion.  Perhaps there is another reason for his reticence he is reluctant to confess.  I will attempt to ascertain this.

"Are you impotent?"

My brother begins to wheeze again, yet he strenuously resists my attempts to assist him, striking me about the head with a boxing glove.  I confiscate this and subdue him, which does not improve his temper.  His anger is due, in part, I am sure, because it was he who taught me to so efficiently apply a headlock.

"If you are not impotent, and you desire him, then you must seduce DanielJackson," I advise.  As he still sees O'Neill strictly in the context of friendship I believe DanielJackson  will require a concrete demonstration of O'Neill's affections in order to be successfully persuaded of their reality.   This is clearly a situation which requires action over conversation, the very thing in which O'Neill excels. I will remind him of this.

"You must take immediate action, O'Neill.  Go now to his apartment and take him to bed."  I have lived among the Tau'ri long enough to have learned many of their clumsy expressions and use them with great proficiency.

"How, exactly?" O'Neill asks with heavy sarcasm.

It had not occurred to me that I would have to instruct O'Neill in the actual mechanics of making love to DanielJackson.  Fortunately I do possess some knowledge in this area and so I am more than happy to impart it to him but his sputtering indignation when I offer to do so is very amusing.  O'Neill takes much time to correct my erroneous assumption that he was ignorant of these matters.  It would appear he is not, moreover he was impressively precocious as a youth.

Now he is calmer, I release the headlock and allow O'Neill to sit, ignoring his epithets as I do so.  We have much to speak of.  DanielJackson is a good but innocent man.  He has suffered greatly in the time I have known him and I would give much for him to have the happiness he deserves.  I act now because I believe that Daniel is closer to O'Neill than he was to his beloved Sha'uri.  It is to O'Neill that Daniel turns, and he finds the distance between them painful to endure.   They share a close bond, one that is unique in DanielJackson's life.  It is to O'Neill that he turns, on instinct, whether in joy, sorrow, anger or fear.

"I believe you must be blunt, O'Neill," I warn him.  There was an incident on Hadante which O'Neill did not witness, nor have I ever deemed it prudent to apprise him of.  DanielJackson did not at first realise the ugly prisoner with dirty teeth was making sexual advances to him.  It was not until I forcibly restrained the offending individual that my little brother sensed something was amiss.  "Be direct," I instruct, once again using language O'Neill will understand.

"We're talking about Daniel!  I'd have to be direct like a tactical nuke in the face is direct," O'Neill sighs gloomily.

I cannot disagree with his assessment.

"There's an ugly word for that kind of surprise, Teal'c," O'Neill says sadly.

"Indeed."

"Daniel is shy," O'Neill says softly, his face bearing the fondness of a parent.  "And he's the gentlest man I know.  I couldn't do that to him."  He looks at me, pleading for understanding.

"I do not believe you have a choice," I say simply.  "You must do something.  The unsatisfactory state of affairs between you cannot persist. You cannot be without DanielJackson yet you will not allow yourself to pursue him, consequently your anger and bitterness towards him continues to grow.  I do not believe that you mean to lash out at him, but you cannot control your feelings as any Jaffa would."  My brother must be made to understand he must act, for he dishonours himself and Daniel with his current behaviour.

I see that I have distressed my friend with this truth, though I do not regret the necessity of having done so.  He is as stubborn and difficult as DanielJackson, and what is even more unfortunate for O'Neill, he blinds himself to the truth.

"You and he are two halves of one whole, O'Neill.  Can you not see that?"

"Will Daniel?"

"I do not know," I say soberly.  "I am willing to attempt to ascertain the nature of his feelings about the possibility if it will help you both."

"What?" O'Neill bleats, paling again.

"I will speak with DanielJackson," I offer graciously.  O'Neill is not grateful for my counsel, becoming most abusive in his desire to dissuade me from speaking with DanielJackson.   I do not believe he realises that he acts as if Daniel were his.  "I will discover for you if he has ever had intercourse with a man or if he would welcome intercourse with a man.  I will be subtle in my interrogation," I assure him, "I will use you only as a hypothetical example to illustrate my questions."

This dire threat alarms O'Neill into insisting that he will talk to Daniel, tonight, and alone.

This was not in question.

"Do not talk too much, O'Neill," I advise him kindly.  "And ensure that you fully satisfy DanielJackson."  Although I do not say this,  O'Neill is aware not only of the fact that I will not hesitate to question Daniel at any time about the events of the evening if I feel it is necessary, but also that Daniel will answer honestly all that I ask of him.

Proving to me once again that he is no fool, O'Neill softly asks if I am threatening him.

Of that, he may be certain.

"Just a minute!" Daniel yells as he unchains and unlocks his door.

What he's going to say when he opens it and takes in the abject sight of yours truly being held up by the wall is anyone's guess.  My knees have been going for a while, but now they're definitely gone.  If it wasn't for the fact that Teal'c will be asking questions, I swear I'd bail.  I cannot believe the cocky sonovabitch ambushed me like that!  It's not as if I wear my heart on my sleeve or anything.

Daniel opens his door and gapes at me.

I gape right back, close to panic.  I'd mentally dressed him in elderly corduroys teamed with something chunky and cable-knit, whereas Daniel has chosen to undress himself in flimsy navy jersey sweats and a too-short grey T-shirt.  Barefoot.  I see toes!  Cute toes.  Bastard.  Why can't he just co-operate?  He's an archaeologist, for Chrissake.  He can't just go around looking like he does, being handsome and wonderful and sweet and nice at people.  It's not fair.  Why doesn't he have any idea what he does to us?  See!  See!  Now he's smiling!  It's almost midnight.  Normal people don't show up out of the blue at this hour.  He's not supposed to be pleased to see me.  He's supposed to be pissy and suspicious.

"Can I come in?" I ask lamely.

I am so not up to this.

"Jack?" he asks, softly questioning, when I don't move at once, then he comes to fetch me, visibly concerned.  A tentative hand curls around my forearm, long fingers spreading over the black leather of my jacket as he draws me into the apartment.  "Go on in," he prompts quietly when I stupidly stand there looking at him, drinking him in, his wide, generous mouth, curving in welcome, the bright eyes and rumpled hair.

Is it because I'm in love with him I think he's so beautiful?  I mean, it's not just his features.  It's the character in his face, always so alive with his feelings.  I watch him all the time, Teal'c is right about that.  I've never made Daniel uncomfortable, though.  I wouldn't do that.

"I was making tea," Daniel calls after me as I head into the loft and he locks the door behind us.

"I'd rather have a big slug of single malt," I retort as I sink gratefully onto the smaller of the two couches.

"Jasmine tea.  You'll like it," Daniel contradicts with calm certainty.

"No, I won't."

"Don't pout, Jack.  Just drink your tea."

I'm honestly glad to have something to hold onto when he comes back and hands me a huge steaming mug of fragrant green tea.  He sits opposite me, thoughtfully sipping his tea, tactfully leaving me to gulp down some of mine.  I like Jasmine tea.  I order it every time we eat Chinese, though it's been a while since we've gone out together.  Daniel knows about the tea but he's kind enough not to call me on it.  He's not calling me on acting like we broke up or something either.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

"Honestly?  I don't know," I blurt and mentally kick myself for being honest.

Daniel leans forward earnestly, his brow wrinkling.  He's trying to be compassionate, not curious, and isn't quite making it.  Getting ready to be on the receiving end of  some heavy-duty gut-spilling.  I must look like I feel.

"Can you talk about it, Jack?"

He's disappointed by my instinctive bristling, but resigned.

I can't talk to him about loving him.  I'm not a kid, I'm not inexperienced.  I don't fantasise holding his hand, unless it's wrapped round my pounding cock.  Daniel's friendship is unequivocal.  It's an absolute in my life.  I don't think Teal'c gets why this is so hard.  Daniel needs me as much as I need him, as a friend.  I can't answer that need by asking him for sex.

Daniel is too interested in people.  He never looks like he wants anything, like he has an angle, an edge.  It's impossible.  Naïveté and idealism, that intellect of his, always thinking, always talking and doing.  Always meaning everything.  He's a loner, a sweet, sensitive celibate who looks at me with so much feeling he takes my breath my away.  He doesn't let anyone in like he lets me in.  It doesn't have to mean sex, it isn’t inevitable.  If I was a better man I'd be content with my little brother.  I try to be a good man and don't always make it and I want to be Daniel's lover.

I know Daniel loves me, he doesn't need to say it.  I can't have him knowing that I lie awake at night jerking off with him in my mind, feeling the weight of his legs hooked over my shoulders, his thighs warm and heavy against my chest, his supple back arching ecstatically as I fuck him slow and hard, his hands resting on his taut, flat belly, feeling me moving deep inside him.

Impossible to tell him what I want from him.

I feel a bit better after the tea, warmer and less shaky.  Then I launch into the stuff I can talk about.  Like I'm making Daniel miserable and how can I put it right?  That was one helluva heads up Teal'c gave me when he got that headlock on me.

"Am I a bastard?" I ask Daniel straight out.  He inhales some of his cooling tea and starts choking so I have to rush right over and give him a pat on the back.

He sputters a thank you and looks at me, quite shocked.

Okay.  I'm sitting way too close to him here.  Close enough to count his pores, not that this is a hardship, he has the kind of skin you only see on cosmetic commercials.  It's just one of the reasons why once more I'm into a guy, exclusively into this guy, after more than two decades of confident heterosexuality.  A man's cock never says die and mine is perking up right now.  Both of us are seriously crazy about Daniel and tragically neither of us are fickle.

I should take my hand from Daniel's back.  I know I should.  I'm not even kidding myself rubbing his spine like this is helping him think about an answer to my question, not after I just mentally fucked him.

"A bastard?" Daniel says slowly.  "You can be, Jack."

Don’t ask Dr. Daniel Jackson a straight question unless you're ready for a straight answer.  Hell, I thought I was ready.   I thought Teal'c was working an angle, trying to guilt trip me here to face Daniel.  I didn't want it to be true.  "Tell me," I urge him.

The fine eyes kindle.  "You really want to know?"

I do.  I'm not kidding about his friendship meaning as much to me as being in love with him.  I didn't know I was acting out.  I didn't.  It all gets so tangled, I can't make sense of it.  I can't make sense of me.

"Jack?"

I look up to see that Daniel has softened some.  Worried now, he's leaning closer, the heat of his body pouring into me.  His thigh, so warm against mine, has me shaken and aching.  I don't want him to touch me, can't have that, but his hand comes to rest over mine, clenched tight on my knee.

"It's nothing I can't handle," he promises.  "It's nothing to worry about."

I wonder then what kind of life he's had, that he doesn't question disappointment.  He doesn't embrace it, he's an idealist after all, but he's ready for it finding him anyway.  How many people have let Daniel down, that he can excuse it so easily when I do it?  I know how much I mean to him.  I'm know I'm not the man he is and times like this I wish he wasn't.  There's nothing I can do to change his past.  Who knows?  Maybe he wouldn't be half the man he is if his parents had lived and he'd been someone's darling.  What's good about Daniel is all due to Daniel.  He made himself who he is with his beliefs, his choices.  He means more to me, to all of us, because of that.

"We've just had a rough patch, huh?" I say wryly.

He's torn between relief he's reassured me he's doing just fine and dandy and worry that now he won't get to the root of whatever is bothering me.

"It's good to have you here, Jack.  It's been a while."

He doesn't say it but I hear it in the soft, refined voice anyway.  I've missed you, Jack.  You've hurt me and I've missed you.  "Can I stay?" I ask impulsively.  Whatever I can fix, I want to.

"Sure."  Daniel looks wary but the welcome is genuine.  It's in his eyes, so expressive.  He can never hide what he's feeling.

Exhaustion slams into me and I slump into the back of the couch, sighing bitterly.  "I'm tired."  Tired to the bone with fighting myself, trying to do what I believe to be right, of being the best for all of us, not just Daniel but all my kids.  Teal'c as much as told me I was deluding myself about that as well.  I guess they can't take me any getting worse than I've been and this is only the first fence I have to mend to put things right.

"I know you're tired," Daniel tells me more gently still.  "I can see that."  He's not the kind to just reach out and touch, but his hand resting lightly on mine is like a rib-cracking bear-hug from anyone else.

I want him so badly.  I want him, not just his body.  I want him in my house, in my life.  Need him there to come home to, to help me make sense.

Be blunt, Teal'c said.  What would Daniel do if I just came out with it?  Asked him to go to bed with me?   Am I scared he'll say no or scared he'll say yes?  And how plain is plain?  Daniel, I want to make love with you?  Or, Daniel, I want to fuck you in the ass so bad my hands shake and my mouth dries?

I'm a very physical guy and platonic does nothing for me.  I want to make love with him.  Would he be happy with that?  Afraid?  Disgusted?

"You ever have any trouble at the base?" I ask abruptly, thinking maybe this is a way I can find out.

"What do you mean by trouble?" Daniel asks cautiously, frowning at me.

"Guys."  It isn't enough, he's not with me.  "Coming on to you."

Daniel sits back, his frown deepening.  "Is that what this is about?" he asks accusingly.  "I thought…"

This was something important?  Jesus, Daniel, where does this come from?  You're important, don't you know that?  "This is important to me."  I should be ashamed, using his Achilles heel against him, using myself.  I should be ashamed but then I'm furious because Daniel is flushing and scowling at me.  "Daniel?  I'm not mad," I lie.  "I'm worried."  I'm more than mad.  I want to hurt anyone who got to him on my watch because where the fuck was I?

"I've had some practice saying no and no one has pushed it so far I couldn't handle it," Daniel informs me coldly, unable to lie to me but majorly offended by this invasion of his precious privacy.

"And it's not like it never happened before," I prompt him.  "You're a very attractive guy."  Daniel blinks at this, his mouth parting in surprise.  Purely kissable.  His tongue darts out nervously to moisten his lip and my cock surges in response.  He's also a bright guy and he knows what I'm not asking.

"Would it change your opinion of me?" he asks challengingly.  "If I had been to bed with a man?"

"Have you?" I fire at him, harsh despite myself.

"Do you really need to know?" Daniel asks sadly.  He reads the answer in my face and his falls.

"I'm not a homophobe," I promise straight out.  "I'm not.  I'm sorry, Daniel.  I don't know what I'm doing here.  I'm freaking myself out."

"You do need to know," Daniel recognises.  "Will you tell me why?" he asks intently.

I dash a weary hand across my eyes and look at him, perched on the edge of the couch so he can search my face, try to read me, try to help me.  "I'll give it a shot," I say roughly, feeling like I've lost already.  "I'm beat."  I get up from the couch, Daniel following, hovering anxiously on my heels as I trudge up the steps towards his tiny spare room.

"Can't you talk to me, Jack?"  The quiet edge of desperation, of hurt in his voice cuts at me.  "We've always been able to talk."

He needs me to talk but he can't ask because it's for him, it's not important, he's not important.

He's everything.

If Daniel would only see who's right before his eyes, wanting him.  He would see me, I'm sure he would, if he cared enough about himself.  I'm angry that he can't make that leap and it shouldn't be with him.  It shouldn't.

Daniel's fingers close around my wrists as I grab his face and yank him to me.  His eyes widen as my mouth slams into his.  He makes a noise in the back of his throat, staggering as I kiss him fiercely, tasting the jasmine on his warm, mobile lips, fitting perfectly to mine.  He's so very sweet and gentle.  I'd be so good for him.  I'm raging and suddenly he's resisting, pulling at my hands with trembling fingers.

I need him, can't he see that?  What does it take?  More than I've got.  I guess this is an answer.

I am hurting him, I knew I would.

I let him go, leave him floundering on the steps behind me and slam the bedroom door in his shocked face.  I could have bailed, but I'm not that much of a coward, even if I did just fall down this side of the door and hit carpet.  Daniel knocks again and again, agitatedly calling my name, has to know I'm okay.  "Tomorrow," I say, hearing the plea in my voice.  "We'll talk then.  Please, Daniel."  Tomorrow I face him.  Apologise, make it right.

Whatever it takes.

I need him.

"Tomorrow," I promise, trying to sound as reassuring as a badly shaking voice allows.  It's shaking as hard as the rest of me.  I think only this door is holding me up.  Jack kissed me!  I can't believe he did that!  "I'm right here," I tell him urgently.  "If you need me…I'm here."

Stupid!  Of course he's going to coming running right to you after he's made a godawful pass at you and he's humiliated.  Get a grip, Jackson.

"I'm alright," I add.  I'm an idiot and I need to get my lame ass out of here.  Jack is in crisis and I'm peppering him with pointless platitudes.  I walk away reluctantly, looking back all the way in case…I guess he won't be out for a while.  He won't leave though, he won't break his promise to me.  He also knows I'll go after him if he tries it.

I'm feeling chilled and shivery so I climb into bed, turning on my side to stare at the wall dividing my room from Jack's.  I have to think about this, make sense of it, if I'm to help him.  He's lonely and hurting, I could see that.  It's so rare Jack lets anyone in, he's so determined to be the tough one, the one the rest of us turn to.  I was so glad he came to me, even if I wasn't expecting…I mean, I think I understand now what he was trying to say to me.  He - he wants to be with someone.  A person he cares for and trusts.  I understand.  Truly.  If he had any other options, Jack wouldn't be turning to me.  I think I know the arrangement he's looking for, though it hurts me to think that Jack would settle for that when he's worth so much more.

I punch my pillow and lie down, trying to get comfortable.  It's difficult while I'm straining to hear any noise from the Jack.  I'm still struggling to make sense of this.  I care very deeply for Jack and I know he cares for me.  I never suspected he was attracted to me, though.  He's never shown the least hint of that kind of interest, so of course I'm shocked he wants to go to bed with me.  At least, I'm assuming he wants…um, no.  No.  The way he kissed me, I'm certain he wants me.

I don't know what to think about that, let alone do, but I do know how I felt when he kissed me.  It was very exciting.  I don't know where that came from, either.  My head must have been in my ass, because I've never been excited by Jack before.  I never thought for a second Jack was excited by me either, so I think a little panic is excusable under the circumstances.

I didn't know Jack was sexy, although I do find him a handsome man, one who attracts people easily.  He - er - attracted me.  Just not - it was friendship.  I always thought it was just friendship between us.  I know we go deep but I never even suspected he was interested in me, not this way.  It's embarrassing as hell I didn't have a clue about this, but now, I'm - I'm flattered.

I can't help thinking there were simpler ways for him to share this vital information than grabbing me and very passionately kissing me.

I'm extremely nervous about what happens next.  I don't want to have this taste of Jack, of what we could be, and then face reality, which I think will be Jack coming to his senses and telling me it was all a terrible error of Glenmorangie-dulled judgement or something.

I don't want to have this and then face reality, which I think will be Jack coming to his senses and telling me it was all a terrible error of Glenmorangie-dulled judgement or something.

That was one helluva kiss.  Definitely rang every bell and blew every whistle I've got.  I need a few - a lot more kisses before I can make any kind of decision.  This doesn't make me a bad, self-centred person, does it?  To want to be with my friend, and not lose him?  If I'm honest with Jack, if he knows I wasn't prepared for this attraction to boil up between us, that I'm scared about the idea of having sex with him, he won't shut me out.  Will he?  Just because I don't know what I want?

Am I shallow because I want to find out how attracted to Jack I am?

I think the answer to that is a resounding 'yes'.  My friend is eating his heart out next door and all I'm concerned about is luring him out to kiss me again.  I'm very concerned about that.  Deeply.  If it wasn't an gross invasion of some much-needed privacy and space, I'd march right in there and kiss him myself.

That's good, Jackson.  Shallow and selfish.

How is Jack feeling right now?  Does he think he upset me?  That I'm angry?  He's changed things between us so radically, turned my life upside down, along with all my assumptions about who we are and what our friendship is.  I think he knew that he would.  He wasn't gentle and he couldn't talk at all, he couldn't ask.  I've never been afraid of Jack's anger.  I didn't know he was afraid of mine.  Jack wouldn't take this risk if I didn't mean something to him, if he didn't want me badly.

Maybe that's why he's been so distant.  He has this thing about being in control, it's more than being the guy in charge, the leader.  The responsibility he takes for the team is personal.  Except with me, lately all he's been is impersonal.  Dismissive.  Or angry.  As angry as he was when he kissed me.  Jack losing control like that, being so desperate…it scared me.  How could I not know how he was feeling, how much he needed me?

Why couldn't he talk to me?  We've always been able to talk.  I wouldn't trade that for sex.  If we go on, if we want each other, sleeping together has to mean we share more, not less.  We have to be closer.

What is Jack thinking?  What does he want from me?

I hope he's okay.  I can't bear to think of him sitting alone in there, needing me.  Maybe if he's calmer now…it can't hurt to check.  I just need to know he's okay.

My bare feet are on the floor before I can talk myself out of it.  I run down the steps and across my bedroom, padding out of the door and through the living room, the chill smoothness of the stone floor sending shivers through me.  I creep up the steps and across to the guestroom door, my hand resting on the handle as I lean close and listen.  I can't hear anything.  He's not moving around, not tossing and turning on the bed.  Maybe he's sleeping.  I hope so.  He was so very tired when he came to me tonight.

"Jack?" I breathe softly into the wood panelling of the door, trying not to wake him if he's sleeping.  Just letting him know I'm here.  I hope he gets that I'm okay.  Confused as hell, and very uncertain, but okay with him.  "We're not FUBAR," I offer gently.  "I promise."  Silence answers me.  I stand where I am, my cheek against the wood, listening.  There's no sound of recognition or acceptance from Jack, just silence.

After a minute or two, I walk reluctantly away, torn between hope he is asleep and I can come up with an intelligent way to tell him we aren't fucked, and fear that I'm too late, that for Jack we are.

I crawl back into bed, tucking the quilt around my chest.  I last about two minutes trying to sleep, then I cave to my anxiety and roll back onto my side to do some more staring at the wall separating me from Jack.

A soft footfall, barely audible, has me jumping out of my skin.  Heart thumping painfully, I roll over to see Jack standing by my bed.  I manage to get all the way from concerned to panicked in the time it takes him to lift up the quilt and slide into bed with me.  He stretches out at my side, his body warm against mine, leaning over me.  I jump violently when his hand skims over my belly to rest on my hip.  He's never touched me so intimately.

He hasn't touched me at all, not for so long.

I can't get a word out.  I'm not breathing.  My whole body stills, even my heart skips a beat.  Jack lowers his face to mine, his eyes glittering in the darkness, wild and fearful.  He looks so alive, alive with wanting.  I'm afraid and fascinated all at once by what is happening between us changing everything, inside and out.

His mouth touches mine, rests there.

He needs something from me.  I reach up and take his shoulder, lifting my head to deepen the pressure on our lips.  Jack's hand clenches on my hip as I open to him, his tongue plunging into my mouth as he noisily gulps in my taste.  His hand slips between my legs to cup my crotch and I'm hard from his touch, my body is tingling and trembling at once.  I'm so afraid but I'm nodding at his questioning look, pulling at him until he's on top of me.

I have to know what we're doing to one another.  I have to.

I'm falling, falling like Jack has been falling, pinned by his weight and his greed.  He shoves my thighs roughly apart, rolling between to push his hips into me.  I gasp as his groin rubs mine, pleasure stabbing low in my belly as I clutch his shoulders, reaching up to kiss him and we fall again, pushing into each other.

Jack arches his back suddenly, shifting his weight to tear at my T-shirt.  When I push away his shaking hands to pull myself clear of the tangle of jersey fabric, he shoves me flat, yanking down my sweats.  I pull at the buttons on his Levis, we get them down to his knees before he can't take any more, grasping my wrists to throw me down, landing heavily on top of me.

His skin is against mine, the searing heat and friction of cock on cock, wracking me with shivery pleasure as Jack moves against me.  His hand cups against my cheek as we kiss deeply.  My fingers drive into Jack's buttocks as he thrusts into me, shoving him hard against me as we rock and rub our bodies together.

I feel so much I don't know where it's coming from, I don't feel like myself.  There's so much pleasure, so much sensation, wonder and passion.  My eyes are shut tight as Jack groans into my mouth, all this feeling exploding white sparks behind my eyes, my body electric and shaking, singing with pleasure as I come in quick, furious pulses, my cock thumping against Jack's groin.

Jack doesn't stop rocking or kissing me, his hand closing over both our cocks, kneading and squeezing as he urgently strains into me, his hips slamming once, twice, slick heat exploding over my belly.

Jack kisses me deeply then, an ache of longing in him that has me shaking terribly.  I pull him to me and he buries his face in my shoulder.

I can't think and there's so much to say, to know, but my eyes are leaden and I'm falling again.

I awaken slowly, blinking sleepily into watchful brown eyes.  Jack is still warm at my side, his body pressed into mine, propped up on his elbow to look gravely down into my face.

"That was definitely the way to go," I blurt as Jack's hand curves around my jaw, his thumb stroking over my mouth.

"What way?"

"A little less conversation, a little more action."

His eyes are gentle as he leans down to kiss me very tenderly.

"I didn't know what to do, Jack."

"Me either."

"Or say."

"Ditto."

"Or think."

"And now?"

"I still don't know," I admit honestly.  "Could you kiss me again?"

"Does that help?"

"Not the thinking, no."  I just really like kissing him.  "A little less conversation, Jack," I remind him.

"A little more action, I get it."  He obediently stretches out beside me, his arms waiting to wrap around me as I roll into his body and kiss him.

He tastes good as I nuzzle and nibble at his straight lips, the stern mouth relaxing for me for the first time in a long time.  I take advantage, slipping my tongue into a silken, rasping welcome.  I snuggle into Jack, sighing as we stroke together, his stubble chafing my face, mine chafing his I suppose.  When I hold him, his back is as broad, his belly as muscular as I remember.  The slow swell of his cock against my hip excites me.  I gasp into his mouth and shudder when his thigh slips between mine to rub against my cock.

Oh, dear.  I'm getting excited again.

"Can we make love?" Jack asks slowly, the hungry glitter back in his eyes.

"Yes."

As Jack begins to push me onto my back, I shove at his shoulder.  "I just wanted to say…"  What do I want to say?  "I know what you want," I offer hesitantly.

Jack kisses me hard and tumbles me onto my back.  "Daniel, I don't think you have any idea what I want," he teases, his sudden fierce smile wicked.

Oh, boy, does he feel good.  He feels right.  A heavy hand strokes my thigh from knee to hip as Jack kisses my throat and shoulder.

"I know what this is," I say, embarrassed by the quiver in my voice as Jack licks the hollow of my throat.  "I'm okay about it.  I didn't think I was, in fact I didn't know what to think, but I am.  I'm okay."

Jack lifts his head, frowning now.

It's the kind of look I've seen on his face a lot over the past months and I tense up despite myself.  It's going to be better between us, isn’t it?  If Jack has what he wants.  There'll be no reason for him to be so angry all the time.  We both need and want someone and it feels right to me that we should have each other.  That's the right thing, isn't it?  For both of us?  I feel that it is, no matter what difficulties common sense dictates for two men in our position.

"I don't want you 'okay'," Jack says savagely.  "I want you happy!"

Astonished, my mouth falls open a little at this.  Jack kisses me again, biting vengefully at my lip.  I find this very distracting and ask him to do it again.

"You like sex," Jack comments intently.

"I love sex."  I stroke his back, surprised and pleased when he trembles, arching into my hands.  "I miss being with someone."

"Is that why…"

"Of course it isn't!" I cut him off firmly.  "We're friends, Jack."

"Friends who have sex?"  Jack looks incredibly sad.  "Why would you settle for that, Daniel?  Why?"

"I'm not 'settling'," I argue, confused by his intensity.  "I want you.  I want us to go on.  I need…I…"

"Say it," Jack urges me gently.

"I need a little time before…I mean, how far do you want to take it?"  I cannot believe I'm blushing.  How old am I for god's sake?  Thirty-seven or seventeen?

"I want to be inside you," Jack whispers into my ear.

I swallow.  "That's what I thought," I say as casually as possible.  I sense this might not be as casual as I would've liked, because Jack is hugging the crap out of me in an annoyingly 'supportive' manner.

"Been dreaming of you, Danny," he sighs, that ache of longing there in his voice and his hold on me.  "You've got as much time as you need.  If you want to go on?"

"I do," I promise, hugging Jack hard, because I think he needs it far more than I do.  I think I'm the first one to push into him, wanting that heat we shared, the shivery friction of his cock on mine.  As fast on the uptake as ever, Jack rocks our bodies together, infinitely slow and sure, his face buried in my shoulder, just holding me like he can't let go.

"Tell me," I ask him diffidently.  "Please, Jack.  Please talk to me."  Please trust me.  Please.

"I'm so in love with you."

Oh, Jack.  Jack.  I feel my eyes burn and blink hard, trying very hard not to lose it.  I would never hurt him, not knowingly.  Never.  I so much regret my own blindness.

"I didn't want you to know, Daniel."

I wrap my legs around his, arching up into each of his gentle thrusts, trying to show what I can't say, that I'm with him.

"I thought I could take it but I can't.  I need you."  He hisses this fiercely, biting into my shoulder.

"I need you too."

He jerks up then, searching my face.

Shaken, I reach up and brush away some suspicious moisture gathered on his lashes.  "Can't be without you, Jack.  I thought you knew that."

"You didn't want this, though," he insists.

"I didn't know it was possible," I admit shyly.  "Now though, yes, I want this, I want you very much."  I'm snatched into a passionate kiss, Jack ably demonstrating one of the many new and interesting things about one's lover being a man.  I've never been lifted off a bed and held like this before.  Very Rhett and Scarlett.   I thoroughly approve, except for the fact we're regrettably frictionless in this position.

It takes some wriggling, but I finally yank Jack back down to the bed with me and we move together.  I like this way of making love, the two of us wrapped around one another, passionately kissing and touching,  slowly wracked with aching pleasure.

"Teal'c said we were two halves of one whole," Jack breathes into my mouth.

"Teal'c?" I ask blankly.

"Not your obvious Cupid, certainly," Jack snorts.

"Teal'c knows?"

"He knows about me."

I am somewhat annoyed by this revelation, frowning up at Jack.  I didn't know!

Suddenly, Jack appears as confused as I am.  "He didn't know about you, though.  I didn't know about you.  Why the hell do you think I waited as long as I did before telling you!"

"You didn't tell me.  You grilled me about my sex life, kissed me, then bailed," I point out, avoiding the point, which is I didn't know about me.

"You know what Teal'c's advice was?" Jack asks, looking as if he's fighting not to laugh.  "A little less conversation…"

"And a little more action? He's not wrong," I inform Jack, smacking his ass to get him moving again.

Powering up from his knees, Jack drives into me, jolting me beneath him.  He's trying to teach me a lesson.  This should be encouraged.  I'm a fast learner.  He does the same again, pounding my body beneath his as I arch helplessly, white flashes pinwheeling behind my eyes.  "Jaaaack!"

"Do you love me?"

He thrusts again and I'm shaking like a leaf, speechless as I cling to him, pleasure-dazed.

"Do you?"

Leave me alone!  Just do that, yes, that!  Again, Jack, again.  Just there.  OhgodohgodohGOD, just there.  Again!  Please.  Oh, God, who's making that embarrassing wailing noise?  Did the Springs get a foghorn?  Oh, that is so good, so goddamned…He's stopping?!

"Daniel?" Jack asks tenderly.

"Yes, for cryin' out loud, yes!  I love you.  Now do me, Jack, just shut up and do me."

FINIS

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