Carlin jerked awake to find a
large, careful hand over his mouth and Jonah crouching by his
pallet. Imperatively, Jonah jerked his head, signalling Carlin to
follow. As his mouth was freed, Carlin sat up, intrigued by the
unexpected capitulation of this dour, antagonistic man. He'd
believed Therra would be the first to come to him with her fragments of
dreams and fleeting memories. He slid from his pallet, easing
away from his sleeping teammates. Jonah paused, frowning darkly
down at the oblivious Kegan, deeply asleep, face down on her pallet
next to Carlin's. He shifted away from her reluctantly only when
Carlin pushed at his shoulder, impatient of petty grudges.
The two of them walked slowly and with great caution, alert for any
disturbance of the familiar night sounds or a break in the routine of
the few workers forced to work this shift, the old and the infirm,
capable of little more than care-taking. There were people all
around them, though, sleeping alone or in pairs, some talking softly as
Jonah and Carlin slipped by them in the shadows. Sometimes there
were noises, grunts and moans, the rhythmic creak of pallets.
There was no privacy, no space which truly belonged to anyone.
Those few who were paired up with women would slip away into the
darkness, among the machines. For the rest, men were more
concerned with their gratification than with onlookers and they all
grew accustomed to the sounds of sex.
Jonah led the way to the hiding-hole he'd made for himself, the place
they'd talked earlier, as far from the other workers as it was ever
possible to be. Carlin went the last few yards alone, Jonah
dropping back to check around, make sure no one had followed
them. He stood leaning against the warm pipes, arms tensely
folded across his chest, impatient to learn what had so disturbed
Jonah's sleep it couldn't wait 'til morning and how it would help them
find the people Teal'c had claimed them to be.
A touch to his shoulder from behind made him start violently and spin
around, his heart racing, to find Jonah, glittering-eyed, darkly amused
by his fright. Flushing angrily, Carlin grabbed a fistful of
Jonah's jacket and jerked him up close. "This is no time for
games!" he hissed.
"No," Jonah agreed as he took hold of Carlin's face and kissed him hard
on the mouth.
Pinned against the pipes, Carlin struggled against the implacable body
holding him with offensive ease, furious with himself as much as with
Jonah for trapping him so neatly. Braced grimly against the
fierce pressure on his lips, he refused to give Jonah what he was
trying to take.
"Therra?" he choked incredulously when his mouth was freed at
last. Everyone saw them together, Kegan's disdain for Therra's
eagerness to please Brenna great enough to encompass Jonah too, for
little more than his association with her.
"I follow her round like a dog," Jonah retorted uncaringly, his eyes
roaming, restless, over Carlin's face.
"A dog?" Carlin blinked, curiosity, his great besetting sin, knifing
through his anger. He didn't know this word, had never heard it
before. And yet…it struck a chord. It unnerved him how so
much of what this man said did.
"It's an expression," Jonah said wearily. It sounded as if this
were something he said a lot.
"It could be a memory!" Carlin argued hotly.
"Therra's a friend, nothing more. I look out for her, that's
all. She's better than me and she knows it."
As if this mattered at all! "I don't care," Carlin said
flatly. "If you have nothing more that could help us learn about
who we are, then you've got nothing for me."
Jonah pushed his hips forward, grinding the heat of his straining
erection into Carlin, smirking as he shivered. "I want you," he
growled, grazing his lips persuasively over Carlin's cheek.
"She turns you down so you come sniffing round me?" Carlin eyed him
contemptuously, his pride more stung by the studied insult than it
should be. Jonah wasn't the first man to come to him looking for
sex and Carlin had never had any difficulty or hesitation in turning
them down, without ill-feeling on his part at least. He was
aggravated by his own naïveté. There were workers he
needed no warnings of Kegan's to know he must take care not to be alone
with, yet Jonah beckoned and he followed the man as heedless as a
child. Jonah - the arrogant dick got under his skin. He
couldn't explain why this was so. "You're pathetic, Jonah," he
sneered. "Get the hell off me!"
"You talk tough for a man with no options," Jonah said pleasantly,
pleasurably rocking their bodies together.
"If you were going to take me, you'd have done it already," Carlin
responded evenly, refusing to excite Jonah more with his struggles.
"I want sex, not rape." Jonah dipped his head, kissing Carlin's
shoulder. "And I've seen the way you look at me."
"Wh-wh-wh-what?" Carlin stammered, a shock of heat and cold surging
through him, burning his skin.
"That bitch Kegan is in heat for you." Jonah was breathing in
Carlin's scent at the hollow of his throat, nosing the hot skin
there. "Can't keep her hands off of you. Everyone sees."
It was news to Carlin that Jonah had been looking.
"You know how it is here," Jonah went on, crowding Carlin harder
against the pipes. "The women choose, that's their right.
Kegan has chosen you."
Carlin swallowed. It was true Kegan had hopes of him, she'd made
her interest clear. He wasn't drawn to her that way, but even his
curiosity and stubborn questioning of all he saw of their lives, their
world, the way he stood out from the other workers, didn't deter
her. She moved her pallet next to his, looked out for him in a
way she did for no one else, her sharp eyes and sharper voice soft only
for him. He let her touch and gave her only his friendship in
return.
"A man doesn't refuse a woman unless he wants this," Jonah
whispered, clamping Carlin's resistant hand to the steely bulge at his
crotch. "You want this, want me. You watch
me, when you're with her, when I'm with Therra. Your eyes are on
me all the time. And mine are on you," he added thickly.
"Teal'c said we were friends in this other life, the one we don’t
know," Carlin countered fiercely, uneasily aware there was some small
truth to Jonah's insolent assertions. "That's all there is
between us!"
"We were lovers."
Jonah's purring complacence stunned Carlin. He spoke as if this
were a self-evident truth Carlin should know.
"I dream about you, Carlin. Your skin and the taste of you.
You haunt me." He punctuated every word with a sensuous brush of
his lips against Carlin's throat. "I'm in your dreams too.
You can't deny it."
"It's about the pool!" Carlin was trembling, his heart thudding
wildly as he fought for focus. "The pool of shimmering
water." Something bigger, more important than
himself. A place he fit. He knew it. "It's not about
me!" he argued desperately, half-wishing Jonah would hurt him, give him
something he could fight. "Stop!" It came out almost as a
plea. "Stop touching me."
"You're following me!" Jonah insisted fiercely. "You told
us. Kegan is right there behind you, panting for you, but you
turn to me, you want me." He took hold of Carlin's chin,
forced it up, staring at him, dark eyes hot, intense. "I'm not
with Therra and I don't want any man I can take. I want to fuck
you." He took Carlin's mouth, thrusting into him, driving
deep in a grating clash of teeth, groaning as Carlin fought his
pistoning tongue. Jonah's passion ravaged him, barely this side
of violence, an urgent hand tearing at the fastenings of his breeches,
sliding over his bared skin to free his cock.
Carlin gasped aloud, desire firing low in his groin as Jonah pulled at
him, a squeezing, sliding grip, a subtle twist, just there, just
right. Dizzying blood slid down, filling his throbbing cock with
sinful ease. His legs shaking, he moaned out in pleasure and
protest, then Jonah was taking them down heavily into the sacks he'd
heaped on the ground.
Jonah kissed him again, biting at his mouth as he wrestled off their
clothes, shedding his jacket and filthy tunic, shoving up Carlin's vest
to bare his chest. He dropped his head then, sucking at a nipple,
nipping with his teeth as Carlin's belly flamed. Devastated by
Jonah's unerring arousal of him, the aching familiarity of his touch,
Carlin pushed him, not away, but down, moaning out as Jonah buried his
face ecstatically in his groin, took one of his balls into his mouth,
squeezing it with his tongue as he fingered the other. He
clutched at Jonah's silvering hair, pushed at him again, arching up
wildly as a hot mouth closed greedily around his thumping cock, sucking
powerfully. His shaking legs folded convulsively against the
torrid pleasure. Jonah yanked clear his breeches, hooking strong
arms around his thighs to tilt up his hips and deepen the friction of
sliding teeth and squeezing tongue as Carlin rapturously fucked his
mouth.
Without warning, Jonah jerked clear, surging up to kiss him again, his
hand moving confidently between Carlin's sprawled legs, stroking his
slippery cock, then the sensitised flesh behind his balls. A
probing finger centred and pushed, breaching him. Gasping into
Jonah's mouth, Carlin shuddered, instinctively bearing down.
Jonah slid into him, a strong, intrusive pain. He was reaching,
rubbing, Carlin swamped with liquid pleasure, tightening his
balls. His whole body throbbing with frustration, Carlin pushed
down, clenching round Jonah's stroking finger, whimpering as pleasure
struck again.
"Carlin," Jonah slurred, voice trembling as his weight shifted between
Carlin's legs. He lifted them, hooked them high around his back,
planted his fists and stared down into Carlin's face. "Carlin,"
he whispered again. Slick, hot skin nudged, Jonah's tongue
swallowing Carlin's cry of pain as he buried himself with fast,
forceful lunges, powering up from his knees. When his balls
rested against Carlin's buttocks, Jonah held himself still, waiting for
him to adjust to his penetration, kissing him passionately.
Racked on the cock inside him, Carlin trembled violently as the burning
pain gradually dulled, his body aching and unsatisfied. Only
Jonah's tongue stroked, soft and sensuous, over his, begging his
response. Wet fingers spread caressingly over his cheek and
Carlin opened his eyes to find Jonah staring down at him, his face
strangely tender. It was the first, the only vulnerability Jonah
had ever shown. When Carlin lifted his own hands to Jonah's face,
he stunned him with a warm kiss whispered over his palm.
This - this was more than lust. Jonah had feelings for him,
strong, passionate, more than he was able to control. Wondering
and moved, Carlin kissed Jonah, slipping into his waiting mouth, a rasp
of moist heat and coaxing pressure.
Heat licked and curled inside him as Jonah rocked his hips, stroking
strong and deep. His muscles gripped the throbbing, sliding skin,
giving grudgingly to the driving rhythm. Euphoric sensation
sparked at each thrust, prickling his skin, intensifying as Jonah
fucked him hard and steady, kissing him wildly. A ripple of
pleasure, pulsing through him, wheeling behind his eyes.
Shuddering, Carlin clawed at Jonah's broad shoulders, sliding trembling
legs down to drive his heels into warm, smooth, flexing buttocks, force
him deeper, harder, closer.
Grunting, Jonah laboured, desperately angling his hips to jab against a
certain spot deep inside. Carlin's buttocks clenched on ecstatic
spasms, his body arched and palsied, orgasm seizing as Jonah convulsed
and collapsed, pumping voluptuous heat into him.
Blindly, Jonah found Carlin's mouth again, kissing him deliriously and
for a long time, until the tremors stopped and there was warmth between
them.
"You're the last person I expected to see tonight," Daniel greeted Jack
dryly, leaning against his door.
"Can I come in?" Jack asked with more patience than he actually
felt. "I need to talk to you."
"I think we about covered it on Euronda," Daniel countered, making no
move to welcome Jack in.
"I apologised for that," Jack stiffly reminded him.
"Yes. You did."
Jack stepped forward and took hold of Daniel's arm, staring at his
stubborn, pain in the ass friend. "Let me in, Daniel.
Please. I need to talk," he said again, compellingly. The
please was calculated, heard from him about as often as sorry.
It didn't soften Daniel but he did pull free, turn and walk away,
leaving Jack to grimace wryly, close and lock the door behind them
both. He wasn't going home tonight. He meant to stay, to
spend the night with Daniel. The first of many nights, he hoped.
They really couldn't go on as they were. He couldn't. He
was very attracted to Daniel, wanting him more, not less, as they went
on, and his control was slipping.
"Coffee?" Daniel enquired casually, heading into the kitchen to pour a
cup for himself. His laptop was on the larger of his two tables,
surrounded by books and photographs, his private journal open beside it.
"Does that come with dessert?" Jack called out hopefully, taking off
his leather jacket, shaking his head pityingly over Daniel's pathetic
notion of fun. He glanced at the laptop, recognising distinctive
golden text. Carter's computer model of the meaning of life
stuff, the library at Heliopolis. Daniel had never quite let it
go.
Daniel came out of the kitchen, put two mugs down on the other table,
then walked away again as Jack wandered over, helped himself to coffee
and sat thankfully down. His not particularly genial host emerged
with two heroic portions of coffee-walnut cake, drenched in fresh
cream, handed him a plate, then sat opposite him.
"So?" He looked at Jack, his eyebrows raised. "What did you want
to say to me?" He said this neutrally, not angry, but not exactly
invitingly either.
"That I'm tired," Jack said simply, shrugging. Picking up his
spoon, he dug into the cake, tasted and grinned. "S' good," he
praised.
"Tired?" Leaning forward on his elbows, Daniel was frowning over
this, markedly more sympathetic.
"Pissed, pressured and tired," Jack elaborated, taking a blissful swig
of Daniel's always excellent coffee.
"The pissed part I worked out for myself, so let's start with
pressured," Daniel invited, investigating his own slab of cake.
"The Pentagon," Jack noted on another bite of cake. It was really
very good. "According to whom, we're turning up crap if we turn
up anything at all."
Daniel sat back in his chair, his spoon poised. "That's
ridiculous," he argued, scowling. "Area 51 is filled with
technology and artefacts we, and the other SG teams, brought back."
"All for the good of mankind."
"Therefore crap," Daniel snapped. "You mean, or rather the
Pentagon mean, we're not bringing back weapons."
Jack wouldn't deny this.
"Hence your bull-headed, hawkish obstinacy on Euronda."
"You really are mad at me if you're mixing metaphors," Jack remarked,
eating some more cake. "I said I was sorry for that and I meant
it."
Daniel eyed him somewhat sceptically. "As you reminded me so
forcefully, our standing orders are to procure new technologies to aid
in the defence against the Goa'uld. After more than three years
willingly working to that specific agenda, suddenly you're 'pressured'?"
"Partly," Jack confirmed. "Mostly I'm pressured by you." It
was helping he'd planned all this out, exactly what he would say, what
he would do.
"Déjà vu," Daniel snapped, annoyed. "Didn't we
establish this is not about me?"
"I don't mean your nagging dovish persistence," Jack retorted, picking
up Daniel's mixed metaphors and making them his own.
"Then what do you mean?" Daniel asked more quietly, puzzling over this.
"My attraction to you," Jack said calmly, kind of pleased with his
delivery. Daniel's reaction, too. It wasn't often the man
was stunned into silence. Usually the opposite. "I'm very
attracted to you," he said again, smiling as Daniel stared at him, his
mouth open. "You must have sensed some of this?" Daniel
blinked hard. This was all. "Because I've been
thinking, for a while now, you're attracted to me too." There it
was. The only reason he was here, laying his career on the line,
trusting Daniel with this. "When we got back from P4-whatsit, you
were kind of pleased to see me." Bouncing with excitement, in
fact. As overreactions went, it was kind of cute.
"You were missing for nine days," Daniel pointed out, abruptly
regaining his voice.
Jack smiled warmly. "You missed me."
"In the sense you were miss-ing," Daniel emphasised unsubtly.
Jack's smile widened. "You were smitten. You were crying
when you had to blow up that big, ugly space bug in my ass."
"Naturally, I was, um." Daniel shut up then and dropped his head,
apparently not feeling up to defending the indefensible. He was
getting red in the face.
"It's nice you feel that way," Jack said gently. "We're friends,
Daniel. I feel that way too."
Daniel looked up at this. "Friends?"
Jack reached across the table and put his hand on Daniel's.
"Friends who sleep together?" he invited softly, his voice rising
coaxingly.
Daniel's breath whooshed out of his chest in an astonished 'oof'.
Jack squeezed his hand and let him go to wallow in his stupefaction.
"That's not an offer I've made anyone in the whole of my career," Jack
promised, with something approaching solemnity. This was the
literal truth. "I want you, Daniel. More and more.
It's - it's driving me nuts."
"Pissed?"
"Exactly!"
"This would be stress-relief?" Daniel never avoided difficulties,
whether dealing or making.
"This would be friends," Jack replied emphatically, "who trust each
other enough and are attracted to each other enough to have sex."
Daniel looked at him intently. "There are all kinds of rules."
"They apply to fraternisation with civilians too," Jack supplied, in
case Daniel was wondering.
"Rules you're choosing to break on the grounds that?" Daniel waved a
hand, inviting Jack to fill in the blank.
"On the grounds that we, that is, the team, will be better off."
"Better off?" Daniel raised his eyebrows. "I don't believe that's
the popular Air Force view."
"Who's to judge?" Jack asked whimsically. "If the alternative is
more days like today." He'd actually executed a man, a bit of a
stretch even for him, though the lying white supremacist scum Alar
richly deserved it for almost succeeding in getting Jack and the good
old US of A to bend over and take it up the ass.
"So your argument is team morale will improve if you're getting laid on
a regular basis?"
"Our morale too, yours and mine."
Daniel shook his head giddily, still not quite believing what he was
hearing. Then he leaned forward, planting his elbows on the
table, his expression serious. "I know you break the rules when
it suits you, Jack. Sometimes that makes it difficult to know
where you're coming from and on occasion, what you'll do."
"Do I do anything different than you?" Jack challenged him. "You
question everything, Daniel. Everything I do. You don't
follow my lead unless it suits you, so I have to ask. Since when
did the USAF rulebook get so important to you?"
"It's - not," Daniel admitted reluctantly.
"This is the part where you tell me you follow me when I'm right," Jack
encouraged him.
"And the part where I have to admit to you that effectively we're
arguing semantics because I'm criticising you for proposing to do what
I tend to do," Daniel sighed.
"If you're worried about Carter and Teal'c, I can respect that," Jack
promised. "What I'm trying to get across to you is that this team
is not like any other command I've had. Forget that one of my men
is an alien, one is a girl and the other is you, the point is that I'm
too damned close to all of you. I care about you all far more
than the rulebook allows me to. Every time I drag you and Teal'c
to some seedy bar for alcoholic beverages neither of you will consume,
I'm violating the letter and the spirit of those regs. Every time
I have you over for dinner or a movie or a game, I violate the regs,
and I've done that at least once a week for more than three
years. You and I are not supposed to be friends at all, yet I
don't see Hammond objecting to that. Do you?"
"So, you're saying throwing sex into the mix is merely a matter of
degree?" Daniel queried. "And it, um, it has to be sex with me?"
"Want me to go over that part again?"
"Please. I'm having difficulty taking it in."
"I want to have sex with you," Jack enunciated clearly. "I dream,
I think, I fantasise about having sex with you."
"Okay." Daniel eyed him dubiously. "It's still, um.
You know?"
"The reason I think this will work is because we both put SG-1
first. I don't believe that will change if we're sleeping
together and frankly, it'll put both of us in one helluva better mood!"
"What's this 'we' thing, pale face?" Daniel joked and then got
embarrassed. He didn't tend to make jokes, as a rule.
"How can I convince you I'm serious?" Jack asked earnestly. "That
I wouldn't have come to you if I hadn't thought through every possible
angle, every threat to the team, to us, to you." He meant
this sincerely. "I swear, I see more pros than cons and
those cons are pre-existing threats to the team whether you and I are
sleeping together or not. Days like today, I see only benefits
from the two of us being less frustrated and communicating more
effectively."
"I'm finding your argument difficult to counter precisely because we
are friends and I do know you." Daniel hesitated, glancing at
Jack and then away again, taking some time, thinking something
through. "Being strictly honest, I have to admit I see your point
about improving communication. But only if it worked, Jack!" he
added passionately. "This is an impossible situation."
"I can't go on as we are, that's all I know," Jack told him, not sure
if he was being fair. "Everything else?" He shrugged.
"So you're damned if I don't and we both may be damned if I do."
"I don't think that at all. We both care, Daniel. We've
worked through far worse things than having to decide to stop sleeping
together if it doesn't work out," Jack reminded him. "If the
foundations weren't solid, I wouldn't be here."
"You're trusting me," Daniel acknowledged.
"I hope you trust me too."
"Some days you shake that trust," Daniel admitted with difficulty.
"Some days you do too."
"We haven't talked about limits."
"SG-1 comes first, that's a given," Jack responded, smiling
again. "We don't neglect Teal'c and we hang out and do the stuff
we'd normally do. But when we want to, we get together, have some
sex. No sulking, no recriminations if we both don't want it or if
one of us, i.e., you, have stuff to do. I figure if we're
talking, you know? We'll be fine. This will be good, a
friendship thing for us, more than we've had before."
Daniel was smiling tentatively. "You really believe that?" he
asked softly.
"Who else do we have?" Jack asked persuasively in response.
"Nobody gets you like I do, nobody gets me. Neither one of us has
been in a relationship for years, the security risks alone preclude
casual pick-ups even if we were inclined, our schedule is insane."
"I hate hard-sell," Daniel rallied enough to tease.
"Look at me and tell me straight out you aren't attracted to me."
Jack sounded anything but confrontational. "We'll call it quits."
Daniel blushed hotly, his gaze dropping bashfully. "I can't do
that," he said quietly.
"So sleep with me," Jack cajoled.
"I," Daniel glanced fleetingly at him, "I don’t know if I'm attracted
enough for that."
"One way to find out." Jack stood up, walked around and took
Daniel's hand, drew him, slightly resistant, to his feet. "Let's
go to bed."
Daniel began to shake his head and Jack kissed him, delicately brushing
lips. Daniel's hand came up to fist in the collar of Jack's
shirt, crushing the pale green fabric between clenched fingers.
He was trembling but the only move he made was a step closer to
Jack. Deepening the gentle pressure, Jack pressed his lips to
Daniel's. Encouraged by a wavering sigh, he rubbed their mouths
together, Daniel rubbing back, quietly learning the feel of one
another. They stood that way for a while, kissing softly, then
Jack hugged him.
"You can't tell me you're not lonely," Jack whispered, stroking
Daniel's hair.
"No," Daniel choked. "I can't. Can you?"
Why else would Jack be here?
They walked along to the bedroom, not sure what to say. They
undressed side by side, as they'd done hundreds of times over the
years, too accustomed, too attuned to one another's presence to freak
at nudity. Jack piled their neatly folded clothes on the chair,
then followed Daniel over to the bed. They'd slept in smaller
places, huddled for warmth, contact, friendship.
"A little different, huh?" Jack noted humorously as he slid into the
near side, glad to see he wasn't the only one turned on here and that
Daniel slept on the left.
They lay under the covers, getting comfortable.
"I, um, Jack? You're the first man I've been attracted to."
"Technically, me too."
"Technically?"
"Oh, I liked girls but in Minnesota they tend to be raised the marrying
kind," Jack said dryly. "I, er, fished. With my
friends. A lot."
Daniel frowned over this. "You asked me fishing. Is that
what you?"
"I was hoping, yes."
Quaintly determined, Daniel rolled over to face Jack. "Friends,"
was all he said. Then he leaned over and kissed Jack with
incredible tenderness, touching his hair. Jack rubbed Daniel's
shoulders, smiling up at him. They deepened the kiss, Daniel
licking tiny dabs over his lips, feather light, like a
brush-stroke. He sighed when Jack's tongue slid into his mouth,
stroking sweetly with him.
Side by side, they kissed with deepening pleasure, looking at one
another. Moving closer to Daniel, Jack took hold of his hips,
pushed his aching cock into him. Daniel quivered and grabbed at
Jack's hips, pushing back. They were both very aroused and it had
been a really long time for both of them. Pushing into one
another this way, cocks trapped between them as they rubbed their
bodies together, they found the friction very good. Jack needed
this very badly, Daniel did too, neither lasting long before orgasm
shook through them. Jack found he liked the gentle vulnerability
of Daniel's face as he came, Daniel was fascinated by the hot splash of
Jack's semen on his skin. They lay close, kissing with more
confidence than before.
They were friends and as they always did, they found their way.
"I should go," Carlin said quietly.
Jonah let him sit, then snared his wrists and slammed him flat,
stretching out luxuriantly on top of him. "Do you believe me
now?" he asked intently. "I know how to love you. How you
need to be touched. It's far more than passionate sex.
We're together. I know it. We're meant to be this way."
"It takes sex to convince you I'm right about us not belonging here,
about there being more for us?" Carlin shook his head in
frustration at Jonah's rigidity
"Hey! This is more," Jonah argued, kissing him softly,
sweetly. "And talking," he added uneasily, "isn't me."
"I noticed," Carlin said dryly. "I'm still waiting for you to ask
me for sex." This was a little unfair of him and he knew
it. Overwhelmed at first by his own responses and the haunting
familiarity of Jonah's hands on his skin, he'd pushed as hard as Jonah
had and taken as much pleasure from their coupling.
"I'm asking now, Carlin," Jonah replied, surprisingly serious.
"Meet me here after shift tomorrow. Be with me again." His
eyes were very sincere.
"You don't need to ask," Carlin gruffly contradicted himself.
"You know I will." He reached up, cupping Jonah's chin, brushing
a thumb over his straight, full lower lip. "You know," he
whispered, pulling Jonah down to him. The man couldn't get enough
of him, even now, when neither of them had the energy for more than
this, slow, deep kisses and gentle, exploring touches.
Jonah's tenderness was the last thing Carlin had expected to find in
this. It was only when Jonah was loving him that he'd been able
to let go of his taciturnity and begin to show what he felt for
him. Lust and physical gratification were part of it, for both of
them, but Jonah was looking to Carlin for more.
"You," he said hesitantly as Jonah brushed kisses over his face.
"You're asking that we be lovers?"
"Yes."
Stunned warmth unfolded in Carlin's chest. Dazed and oddly
grateful, he dared a smile. "You want to move your pallet next to
mine?" he invited boldly.
Jonah smiled. "Kegan will drop you fast enough now you're mine."
Carlin tried to glare down this possessiveness but didn't really make
it. Jonah merely smirked and kissed him again, nibbling
distractingly on his lips. "Therra won't want rid of you," Carlin
murmured, when he could get a word in.
"Maybe she can move next to Kegan," Jonah snorted unkindly, his eyes
twinkling.
"If you want me, you have to talk to her," Carlin insisted
quietly. "I'm not looking to hurt anyone."
"But you want to be with me?" Jonah demanded.
"Yes. I want you."
"Therra and me, we're not together," Jonah promised, smiling
again. "I promise you that."
"She can do better," Carlin mused aloud, remembering this remark from
earlier. "But I can't?" he asked teasingly, looking innocently up
at his - his lover.
Jonah rolled energetically onto his back and sat up, shifting Carlin's
weight with impressive ease. Sprawled on his lap, Carlin planted
his feet either side of him and returned his embrace. "You can,"
Jonah told him seriously. "But I won't let you. I'm right
for you. I know it and I can't even explain it. We're right
for each other. I don't trust these stupid dreams but I trust
that."
"So you'll help?" Carlin asked eagerly, trying hard to not to show how
very deeply these generous words affected him. It was a very fine
thing to be so much wanted. "You'll question? Remember?"
"For you," Jonah sighed, exaggerating his reluctance
humorously. "And in the hope what I'll remember is a big,
soft bed with you in it, waiting for me."
Carlin huffed disgustedly but a smile got away from him.
Arms around one another, they kissed once more, taking their time, not
a gentle kiss, one of wanting and pleasure. A promise in the kiss.
They had to part then, making their own way back. There were
questions to ask and they had work.
Exhausted but feeling lighter, looser than at any time he remembered,
Carlin checked on Kegan, then slid back into bed. His eyes were
the heaviest part of him, and he slept.
Blue light played over his face, his skin, dazzling and
pure. He stood staring from the foot of a ramp, the ring of
bright water filling this huge, empty space around him. A blur of
motion passed him and he started. Jonah stood poised before the
blue water, looking back at him. He didn't speak, only held out
his hand, demanding Carlin go to him, take it.
He
sensed a presence behind him. Kegan was braced in refusal, her
lips moving soundlessly, trying to hold him, to keep him anchored
there. He had no time for her, turning away as another shadowy
figure moved past him, striding onto the ramp. Stopping short of
Jonah, Therra stood staring down at him, a warmer look from her than
she had ever given him.
A
heavy hand touched his shoulder, making him jump. The man Teal'c
stood at his side. He gravely bowed his head to Carlin then
stepped up onto the ramp.
"We're
meant to be," Jonah said, offering his hand to Carlin once more.
Jonah's
was the face he saw; the others were in his shadow. Comfortably
so, as if his place first among them was Jonah's right. Jonah -
he - he led but still he wanted Carlin. Needed him. Carlin
could only stare and wonder at the imperative hand demanding him, but
his feet took him where he needed to be. He moved past the other
two as if they weren't there, reaching out to take Jonah's hand.
They
gripped one another tightly, Jonah smiling now, pulling Carlin
confidently toward him as he backed toward the bright water…
"Carlin!"
His whole body lurched and he felt as if he were falling, opening his
eyes, blinking and shaken, to find Kegan hovering over him.
"You slept like the dead," she complained, "And we're already falling
behind." She gripped his upper arm, gave him a reproving shake as
he blinked at her. "I have to go. Catch me up, or you won't
eat." She dashed away and he groggily rubbed sleep from his eyes.
As he pushed back the covers and sat, a twinge of pain, low in his
back, reminded him how forcefully Jonah had taken him, how passionate
his own responses had been. The strength of his reaction lent
credence to Jonah's certainty they loved in this other life they didn't
know. The thought of belonging, of being such a vital part of
Jonah's life they were drawn so powerfully, so completely to one
another now, with no true memory of who or what they were, made him
shiver with a pleasure he couldn't wholly explain.
He got carefully to his feet and pulled on his quilted jacket,
determined Jonah wouldn't see how carefully he held himself. He
wanted to love again, tonight, when they were safely alone. If
Jonah thought he was hurting…the stiffness would pass, he was sure.
Kegan was doling out food as if she were doing the world a favour when
Carlin got in line. Jonah was already here, eating with Therra at
his side. Carlin found this difficult, unsure what his reaction
to her should be. She didn't impress him with her aloof, superior
manner, arrogantly ordering the other workers to follow her lead though
she was not their section leader. The foreman had served his time
and wanted an easy life; behind Therra was Jonah and so he let her have
her way. It chafed at Kegan but there was nothing any of them
could do. Therra was the one who drew Brenna's eye and the rest of them
were bodies, nothing more. They didn't have Therra's feel for the
machines.
Yet Therra was a part of this, he was sure. Jonah was close to
her though he didn't want her the way he did Carlin, and he went out of
his way to please her. Though Therra was not one to question the
life they lived, she had the dreams, and now, she took a place in
Carlin's dreams too.
Kegan filled Carlin's bowl, sneaking in a little extra for him as she
always did, giving him two pieces of bread when he asked. He knew
he would disappoint her when he went over to sit with Jonah but she had
to know he had changed, moved on. He doubted they would stay
friends. She wouldn’t forgive him for taking Jonah into his bed
and not her.
He sat on the bench, refusing to show any discomfort, handing Therra a
piece of the bread. She took it gratefully and after the first
taste of his gruel, Carlin found he had an appetite. He smiled to
himself, some specific memories on his mind. Jonah had, um,
worked him hard last night.
"Any more dreams?" Jonah asked him.
Carlin had to swallow his food before he could speak. "I saw the
pool of light again. Except this time, we were all there.
Including," he caught himself up on the name, remembering Kegan's
advice, "Tor." Night sickness was on everyone's mind and talk of
dreams was commonplace. The name 'Teal'c' might draw attention,
though. People were curious about how such a strong, fit man
could get so sick again, so quickly, worried the cure they relied
on was maybe failing them.
"I dreamed about mining," Jonah announced. "Naked."
Therra looked at him in surprise, as well she might.
Oh, that was subtle. That was good. Refusing to be
embarrassed, Carlin rolled his eyes at his single-minded
lover. He needed no reminders of his promise. He
would be there tonight with Jonah, when it was safe. His belly
tightened, desire panging at the thought of how they would love.
He wanted Jonah very much and was almost ashamed by his
distraction. The questions they had to ask were much more
important than any pleasure he would take.
"Therra?" he asked, having to make a conscious effort to keep his mind
where it should be.
Therra looked at him seriously, her eyes wide. "A lot of numbers
and letters keep popping into my mind…S-G-1, D-H-D, G-D-O."
This meant nothing to Carlin, it gave him no trigger for his own
memories and the only thing Jonah seemed to care about were memories of
him. "It sounds like gibberish to me," he told Therra
off-handedly, disappointed.
"Well, it must mean something," she stated.
Carlin noticed then that Jonah was staring at Ander, one of the
stokers, a massive, heavy-set man who was surprisingly friendly.
Like all the stokers, he had extra rations, his bowl twice the size of
theirs.
"Excuse me?" Jonah asked, politely for him.
It said much for Jonah's notorious reputation among the workers that
Anders meekly handed over his bowl, trading it for the rations Jonah
had barely touched. No doubt he'd take another bowl later and the
one who suffered wouldn't be him.
Curious, Carlin watched Jonah, staring down at the bowl in his hands.
"Jonah?" Therra asked him.
Jonah put the bowl down beside him, bottom up. "That means
something," he said absently, his mind clearly elsewhere.
"What is it?" Therra was as intrigued as Carlin.
"I don’t know yet," Jonah said, strangely determined, staring down
intensely at the bowl as if the other two weren't there.
Carlin felt his optimism rise. His doubts made more sense to him,
knowing he wasn't alone. Therra seemed to be working as hard as
he was to make sense of what was disturbing her mind and now
Jonah…Carlin ate his gruel, his eyes fixed on Jonah's rapt, handsome
face, astonished and grateful this had at last become real to
him. This could not be a memory of Carlin, the bowl meant as
little to him as Therra's stream of oddly paired letters did, but it
meant something to Jonah. It was consuming him. It mattered
to Carlin a lot Jonah would set aside his disbelief and work at this
for him.
Watching over Jonah, he and Therra ate in silence until she looked up,
alarmed. "We're late for shift." She shook Jonah's
shoulder, jerking him from his reverie. "We're late!" she snapped.
Jonah grimaced at Carlin, but when she dashed away he stood and
followed, leaving Carlin alone. He found he understood what Jonah
had meant about following her round as if he were a dog. In his
dream, Jonah led and Therra followed, but it was not that way between
them here. Brenna's favour for her expertise put Therra above
them all. And Therra - well, unconsciously she expected that
respect, looked for it. No question it put Jonah on edge.
Carlin also found he didn't like to see Jonah walk away from him to
follow her. It felt wrong to him, even before Jonah seduced him.
Therra was a strange one. Better than them or not, she had this
need to follow the rules. It wasn't a trait Carlin or Jonah
shared or particularly understood. Her seeming eagerness to
please, to have Brenna's good opinion, was hard to reconcile with her
willingness to question all she appeared to value.
Carlin took it as another important sign they were on the right
path. This thing they were all part of was bigger than they knew,
they only felt its pull, yet it was strong enough they were each
overturning all that made them who they were in this place. The
sheer unlikelihood of Jonah or Therra being ones to voice such doubts
made Carlin all the more certain what they were searching for was the
truth.
He had no real time to linger. Like the others, he had to get to
shift. Reluctant to waste yet more time when he was finally
feeling they were getting somewhere, he went to put back his bowl.
Kegan stalked towards him. "Well, I see you made some new
friends!" she said accusingly.
"Yeah!" Carlin retorted, taking responsibility for the disappointment
in her eyes.
"Carlin?" she asked him, her voice breaking, a big sacrifice of pride
for her. She'd warned him to his face, if he was a friend of
Jonah, he was no friend of hers. He'd willingly crossed the line
she'd set, felt he'd sought it out, and still she was here, giving him
a chance to make it right, a chance which hurt her, a weakness she'd
hate in herself later when she saw him and Jonah openly together.
He could give her nothing. Jonah was his lover and their path was
taking them away from Kegan and all she represented. "I’m sorry,
Kegan," he apologised softly. For what little it was worth to her
now, he meant it. All he could do for her was walk away.
"Want to grab some food?" Jack asked hopefully.
"I'm actually kind of busy," Daniel said, his voice small and buzzing
on the phone.
"With what?"
"Well, now I can't leap small buildings in a single bound," Daniel
snarked automatically, "this translation for SG-9 is going to take some
time. Being - stupid - cost me a lot of that and they head out in
exactly two days."
Jack winced. Flanked by a smirking Fraiser and Teal'c, General
Hammond had been very forthright during the debriefing about
their testosterone-fuelled, adrenaline-charged, alien-enhanced,
stupidity. Even Carter had blenched.
"So, thanks for the invite, Jack, but not tonight," Daniel refused
firmly but politely.
"Daaaniel," Jack whined. "I need some sex."
"Don't take this personally, but I'd rather work on the translation,"
Daniel informed him sweetly, a ripple of amusement in his voice.
"We don't have to sleep together. We could just go eat and hang
out for a while," Jack instantly reversed his position. Whatever
it took to get Daniel out the door and into his clutches.
"That's, um, that's even less incentive," Daniel retorted ruthlessly.
"Something weird happened," Jack sighed, cutting to the chase.
He'd said it before. He said it every day. Daniel Jackson
was a perpetual pain in the ass. "Er. Carter."
"Sam?" Daniel sounded startled.
"I, er," Jack mumbled. "I."
"You want to talk?" Daniel's tone now suggested that was different
and why the hell didn't Jack say?
"I want sex too," Jack insisted, in case Daniel was feeling like being
supportive or anything.
"Get over it!"
Jack whimpered pathetically into the phone.
"Want to eat at Rosey's?" Daniel suggested, pointedly ignoring
him. "It's right around the corner. I can go grab us a
table?"
"Sure," Jack agreed easily, his libido smart enough to take what the
rest of him could get.
"Okay, see you there," Daniel said rapidly, then hung up.
Smiling to himself, Jack switched off his cell phone and slid it in his
pocket.
"Or sooner," Daniel said, when he opened his front door. Half in
his jacket, half out, juggling keys, he froze, glaring.
Jack gave him a little wave. "Rosey's sounds good," he said
happily.
"I should never have let you in my bed that first time," Daniel sighed,
raising his eyes heaven-wards in pain. He shoved his keys at Jack
and shrugged on his jacket. "Stalker!" he accused.
Jack beamed at him. Things were perking up, in every sense.
Weird things might be going on with Carter, but Daniel? In faded
blue jeans which made his legs look endless and a white and light blue
shirt, Daniel made sense. "We could skip dinner and go right to
the part where we have sex," he suggested, ambling forward. Just
in case.
Daniel fended him off coldly, retrieved his keys and made a production
of locking his door.
"We're supposed to be sleeping together," Jack went on, prowling along
as Daniel marched off down the hallway to the elevator. "We've
been together, what?"
"Two weeks." Daniel punched the call button. "One of which
we were trapped on base, hormonal and stupid, but not stupid enough to
try having sex."
"After I happened to Siler? Are you kidding me?" Jack agreed
heartily, shuddering. "That man might never wield a wrench again."
"Which brings you back to your point?" Daniel suggested, stepping
smartly onto the elevator, Jack hard on his heels, wishing Daniel
wouldn't kill him if he grabbed his ass.
"My point? It does?" Jack didn't see the connection
himself, but was willing to play along.
"In some tortuous way only you can fathom, the wrench is some kind of
metaphor for the fact that for friends who sleep together, we have not,
in actual fact, done much sleeping," Daniel reeled off with enviable
fluency, planting himself in a corner and folding his arms emphatically
over his chest when Jack sidled up next to him.
"You know me so well," Jack gushed.
"We've had sex twice," Daniel remarked, looking under his lashes at
Jack.
"I'm hoping tonight, third time's a charm," Jack announced, grinning.
"You're okay with this?" Daniel asked diffidently, staring down at his
feet. "Us? Um, me?"
"Wanting you?" Jack politely sought clarification. "I'm
fine." He smiled, nudging Daniel with his elbow. "It's
good."
Daniel's face relaxed and he smiled back. "For me too," he said
decidedly.
"It's working out."
"Don't die of shock or anything," Daniel advised Jack kindly, "but you
were - um, I think you were right."
"I'm in shock!" Jack declared, brightening.
"There's no chance whatsoever of CPR."
"What was I right about?"
"The attraction thing. I feel," Daniel hesitated, thinking this
through, "better, knowing it's okay to be looking and seeing and," he
blushed, "wanting you."
Jack nodded. This actually made perfect sense to him. "Hey,
a load is lifting for me too," he encouraged Daniel. "Like I
said, it's working out."
"I bought a book," Daniel observed, distantly. "An instructional
book."
"I, er, I kind of know what to do," Jack said gently.
"We were playing chess."
"You were beating me."
"You unzipped my pants."
"Always a pleasure."
"Took out my, um," Daniel coughed slightly and kind of mimed milking a
cow.
"Sorry," Jack said politely. "Not with you."
"Penis," Daniel enunciated coldly.
"Neeever bluff a linguist," Jack made a firm mental note to himself.
"And told it 'Kree!'" Despite his best efforts, Daniel's lips
were twitching. "So you'll excuse me if I prefer to consult a
less blatantly biased reference source."
"At least you see me coming," Jack joked, nudging him again.
Closing his eyes, gritting his teeth, Daniel slumped.
"This is working out great!"
The walk to Rosey's Colorado Bar 'N' Grill was maybe five minutes, time
well spent, in Jack's humble opinion, in harassing Daniel with a
variety of appalling one liners of sexual connotation, culminating in a
broken confession on his part that sex was just a ruse. What he
really wanted was for Daniel to slip into some big rubber boots and
play with his rod.
He had the very distinct pleasure of Daniel not laughing at him several
times, always a sign of a particularly successful joke.
Rosey's wasn't exactly deserted, but all of the action was down by the
dance floor, some faux-Celtic band doing the earnest Enya thing.
The crowd spilled out into the bar, but they pretty much had the grill
to themselves. The place was much like any other but they had
plants, it was clean and the waitress smiled like she meant it when she
showed them to a booth at the back. She recommended the chicken,
not the steak, French fries with coleslaw, and Daniel nearly dropped
the jacket he was wriggling out of when Jack ordered the white wine Meg
the waitress would actually drink.
"We're, er, this is just hanging out, right?" he asked while the
waitress was off in search of a suitably youthful sauvignon blanc.
"Grabbing food," Jack confirmed, ignoring the candlelight on the
grounds that all the booths had one of the little buggers dripping out
of an recycled wine bottle. There was a posy of flowers too, but
he considered those part of the traditional Colorado grill
décor, no more.
Daniel nodded, glad to hear they weren't on any kind of date or
anything, folded his hands on the table and indulged in a little people
watching while they waited for Meg the waitress and her service with a
smile. He was not about to start a conversation he would have to
make Jack finish, not when they could be interrupted any time by the
arrival of scary bar 'n' grill wine.
Smart guy.
For Jack's part, he was happy to sit here watching Daniel for a
while. It was good he could look at Daniel and not feel cheap
about wanting him. That pressure was off Daniel too. So
Jack could sit, take his time, look his fill. It was easy.
Daniel was a very good looking guy and Jack was definitely the one
lucking out in that regard. He had a great body too, which Jack
was enjoying getting up close, naked and sweaty with him. The sex
was working out too and he was aware of a very pleasant ache of
anticipation, localised in his groin.
Meg the waitress came back with two tall wine glasses and a bottle of
Matanzas Creek, the wine she'd had her eye on. Daniel tasted
vanilla and citrus, Jack tasted wine, and Meg went away happy to hassle
the chef on their behalf. They drank a little wine, listened with
half an ear to the music and generally kicked back. Meg brought
their dinner, platters heaped high, the tender chicken oozing rich
garlic butter and coated in crisp batter. The French fries were
also crisp and coated in something savoury. Dinner was officially
pronounced good.
"So? What happened with Sam?" Daniel asked him after far too few
bites of chicken.
Jack was going off the whole confiding thing. He was now far more
interested in sticking with Daniel and the sex they were going to have
when they got back to his place.
"Weird?" Daniel prompted.
Gobbling down some French fries bought him some time.
"Jack!"
"She was looking at me," Jack replied in an injured tone.
"Wow. I bet that doesn't happen to you every day." Daniel
had his own uniquely annoying brand of big-eyed innocent sarcasm.
"Looking in a weird way."
"Weird." Daniel thoughtfully ate some coleslaw. "Could you
be more specific?"
There was no one near them, the Enyaesque crap would baffle a parabolic
mic, he would happily kill anyone who saw him on a semi-date with
Daniel. Acceptable risk. "It was when we went back into the ship."
"I meant to ask you about that," Daniel fired up at once. "Why
the hell did you do that?"
Jack was embarrassed. "I figured you and Teal'c wouldn't make it
out from under before the ship blew and…what? What!"
"I know I was unconscious at the time but when I came to and my head
stopped spinning, it occurred to me right away you and Sam could have
carried us back to the Gate a couple times over in the time the two of
you were romping through the heavily guarded, about to blow, ship."
"I was stupid at the time," Jack announced with cold precision.
"You were stupid and Sam was?" Daniel was relentless.
"Weird," Jack noted gloomily. "Picture this. Hallway, you
know the kind. Dinky little forcefield like blue saran
wrap. I'm on one side, beating the crap out of a control panel
with a shovel, Carter is on the other. Enter Jaffa, stage right."
Daniel made encouraging noises.
"I refuse to leave her."
"Of course! Teal'c refused to leave you," Daniel pointed out on a
note of information, his eyes impish. "And I couldn't walk so I
stayed put too."
Jack bared his teeth at him.
"Go on."
"We're nose to nose," Jack went on skilfully painting his graphic word
picture, "either side of this forcefield, which is weird in itself, the
Jaffa are closing in, I'm being my usual heroic self and Carter?"
Daniel put down his knife and fork because he could tell they were
getting to the good bit. He slid his plate towards the middle of
the table and leaned in. Jack leaned in too.
"Sam?"
"Carter gets all - tearful."
"Sam?" Daniel straightened up, his mouth falling open.
"I know!" Jack gestured emphatically. Didn't he say this was
weird! "She begs me to go."
"With tears in her eyes?" Daniel asked, amazed.
"Exactly! She's staring at me, I'm staring at her, thinking
maybe?" Jack did not know how to put this. She about
knocked him on his ass with this one. "Thinking, Christ, I
know that look. I know what that means." He
held up both his hands in supplication. "And it's Carter."
Daniel did some blinking. "It must have been a shock." He seemed
to feel he was responding inadequately.
"I'll say. I was so pole-axed I was just standing there, staring
back at her, the whole time the Jaffa were closing in on our
position. I mean, where the hell did that come
from?" Jack shook his head, still dumbfounded. "We were
kind of lucky the ship blew up then." He leaned in again and
Daniel leaned in too. "I have no idea what to do," he admitted,
helplessly. Carter was a fine woman and a beautiful one, but it
was just wrong, on every level. "What would you do?"
"Nothing."
"Huh?" This was not the advice Jack expected from Dr.
We-Can-Work-It-Out.
"If Sam wanted you to know she had feelings for you, she would've told
you," Daniel said confidently. "I'm not saying you're overstating
the case or anything like that, but maybe the stress of the situation
played into it. Sam was thinking she was about to die, you
wouldn't leave her anymore than she would've left you or me."
"That's reasonable, I guess." Jack was willing to be convinced,
here. Really.
"I don't really know what to say to you except we know Sam," Daniel
told him earnestly. "She would've transferred off the team if she
were compromised in any way. You know what she's like. She
loves the Air Force, literally can't imagine doing or being anything
else. She believes in the system."
"It is against regulations," Jack acknowledged gratefully, glad Daniel
was making sense even if no one else was.
"Technically, so are we," Daniel felt compelled to point out
unhelpfully.
"That's different," Jack sneered. They'd been through all this,
already! "We're friends. It's different.
Carter is my 2iC. Look, even if I was interested, which I'm not, I
can't. Not Carter. It's a chain of command thing."
Daniel looked doubtful.
"The reason I can be with you ultimately is simple," Jack argued
forcefully. "I give you an order and unless a screaming horde of
Jaffa or some bug-eyed alien thing is about to take us out,
you'll argue. Am I sure I want to do that, why not do this
instead? Aggravating stuff like that."
Daniel did not appear to care for this description of his infuriating
independence in the field, a tendency for which Jack was forced to
blame both of them.
"In marked contrast, if I give Carter an order, she has to obey.
She has to respect my rank even if I didn't respect hers by sleeping
with her. Which I wouldn't. I mean, come on! We can't
talk, we can't hang out. She can't even call me by my first
name." Jack shuddered. "What kind of foundation is that for
any kind of feelings? I may see her nearly every day but I don't know
her. Not as - as Sam. She's Carter to me, Daniel.
Major Carter. That's all she can ever be. That's the way it
is for us and she knows it as well as I do. Doesn't mean I don't
care about her and she knows that too."
"A chain of command thing." Daniel took a reflective sip of his
wine.
"Carter can date anyone at the mountain with the rank of major or
above, literally anyone but me." Daniel looked up,
bright-eyed. "Or General Hammond!" Jack added hastily, heading
the looming question off at the pass. "I'm the only one with
direct authority over her, the only one in a position to wield undue
influence."
"That makes sense," Daniel admitted, pouting over having to just
concede the point. Acquiescence was not a natural state for the
archaeologist of the species.
"Whereas you're resistant to everything up to and including death,"
Jack informed him sullenly. "You're particularly resistant to
me." Yes, he was jaundiced about that. It was Daniel's
fault. "We're having sex," he added, going with the bitter flow,
"and I personally haven't noticed you going out of your way to agree
with me about anything."
"Jack, I hate to break it to you, but sleeping with you doesn't mean I
have to be nice." Daniel smiled sweetly, quite pleased with this
prospect. "I wasn't nice to you before, so being nice now would
only draw unnecessary and frankly, in many cases, incredulous
attention." For some reason, this Daniel found funny.
"You could laugh at my jokes." That would be something.
"No, Jack. I couldn't," Daniel retorted unkindly.
"Who would believe we were sleeping together?"
"Not me." Daniel beamed at him.
"You are sooo paying for dinner," Jack growled.
"Still feeling weird?"
"Irritable and argumentative."
"Then you're back to normal and my work here is done."
"Does it ever occur to you that in the armed truce which is our
friendship, our natural state is Mexican standoff?" Jack wondered
whimsically.
"Irresistible force meeting immovable object?"
"Don't start with me."
They bickered amicably through the rest of their food, skipped dessert,
tipped Meg lavishly for not getting in their faces, then wandered back
to Daniel's building.
"Goodnight, Jack," Daniel murmured dulcetly, holding out a polite hand.
Jack raised an eyebrow and tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
"Don't let me keep you up," Daniel persisted.
"You won't," Jack promised softly, anticipation cranking up a notch.
Smiling to himself, Daniel went in, holding the door open for Jack.
"See? This is why I like you." Jack followed him in.
"Sometimes, you shut up."
They rode up to Daniel's floor in silence, glancing now and then.
Jack looked at Daniel's legs and when they walked down the hallway, at
his impossible ass, mere looking enough to twist Jack's gut in knots
and fill his cock. When they got inside, he shed his jacket and
walked straight through to the bedroom, leaving Daniel to deal with the
door. They both knew why he was here and he was comfortable
enough to be in Daniel's space, undressing, when Daniel came in.
Jack smiled when Daniel passed him, taking off his glasses and stowing
them safely in their case, then moving over to the bed and the closet
behind it. He came back with hangers for Jack's clothes and
muttered something about buying him a toothbrush and stuff. For
convenience. Jack watched from the corner of his eye as Daniel
undressed, catching him barefoot, his jeans unzipped.
Daniel came willingly into his arms, curious and more comfortable with
Jack's nudity than he had been. He looked down, watching as Jack
pushed the denim down to cling to the sharp outline of his hips, baring
as much of his skin as possible, slowly tracing the v with his
fingertips. Daniel's breath caught, the bulge beneath the denim
more noticeable now.
Satisfied, Jack pushed the jeans down and Daniel stepped clear of them,
hangers and neatness forgotten as Jack drew him over to the bed.
He had a very specific idea of how he wanted this to go, pulling back
the covers and urging Daniel to lie on his back and open his
legs. Daniel was intrigued, staring up at Jack as he knelt
between his thighs and stretched out on top of him.
Always a quick study, Daniel gasped as Jack's cock rubbed over his,
then pulled him into a kiss. He liked having Jack suck on his
tongue while Jack liked having his lips licked, the one leading
naturally to the other. They liked all the things they were
finding out about each other, both comfortable taking it slow, keeping
it easy between them.
Daniel's sensitive fingers roamed endlessly over every part of Jack he
could reach, touching, tracing, learning each specific contour of his
body while Jack held him tight, pushing into him, taking his time,
cocks chafing from the gorgeous, rasping friction.
Breaking off the kiss, Daniel lifted his legs, gripping tightly either
side of Jack's waist, his hands skimming down to hold Jack's ass, urge
him closer. He liked this, the strong, sweet slide of sweaty,
sensitised skin, Jack's weight and the steady, pounding rhythm of their
hips.
"I could make it quicker if I masturbate us both," Jack offered,
smiling over Daniel's rapt, flushed face and intense eyes. The
man had an innocence in taking his pleasure which touched Jack.
He wanted sex between them to always be easy, always a pleasure.
"I like it slow," Daniel decided. "I like this." His shy
smile said he liked Jack.
Eyes wide, they kissed deeply, rubbing lips and tongues, moving
together, grinding aching cocks until their breathing laboured and they
simply held one another. Jack buried his burning face in Daniel's
shoulder; his ass, his spine clenching tight. It was good.
He held on until Daniel's hips stuttered and he clutched at Jack,
his whole body spasming in orgasm. Jack lifted his head then to
see Daniel close his eyes, biting his lip over a soft, keening moan,
writhing his head into the pillow as his cock pulsed heat.
Jack really did like to see Daniel's face when he came.
On to part two
Feedback makes the difference between writing
and posting; please contact me at biblio@jd-divas.com
|
Download a printer-friendly PDF version of the story