[SGA RPS] The Quality of Light
Title: The Quality of Light
Pairing: David/Joe
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 450
Summary: For Joe, belonging's always been variable.
Notes: Partner betrayal.
Originally Posted: January 16, 2006
The Quality of Light
They don't say much about it when it happens, which suits Joe just fine.
It's not a big deal, anyway. It's just something that happens.
And it doesn't happen often.
--------
He thought he'd outgrown these flights of fancy, but age brings, if not necessarily wisdom, at least some honest self-awareness. He knows you can't expect anything more responsible from a man who took up acting to pay the rent instead of retail or pizza delivery.
He's always felt ambivalent at best about responsibility.
And at least these flights don't require official documentation.
--------
He enjoys it more than he cares to admit.
The only catch is that David doesn't require an admission. He can see it in the early afternoon sunlight that warms the lazy sprawl of his limbs, the loose swagger that will carry him through the next two weeks on set.
But mostly, he can see it in his eyes.
--------
Sometimes, he forgets what he's doing until he sees it on screen.
He knows that Paul likes to watch the final cut when it airs, that Peter hates to, and that Torri can take it or leave it. He's in the take it or leave it camp, but the boys aren't so old yet that they don't still enjoy watching their dad play the hero. When he sees it, it's always unexpected: a smile offered a little too brightly, a gaze held a little too long. There's something more than McKay and Sheppard on screen, but something less than David and Joe. The thrill it gives him makes him sick to his stomach, especially with the boys sitting by his side.
But invariably, he finds himself idly studying the same patch of sunlight within the next week.
--------
Joe doesn't ask, but David says he doesn't think Jane would really mind. Joe can read between the lines; he knows the implication and the expectation of a response.
Instead, he slowly drags his hand through the air and says wonderingly, "The light is really weird in here, you know that?"
If he takes David's blue T-shirt when he leaves, the one worn thin and soft that also happens to be Jane's favorite, no one's the wiser.
--------
Jane and Katherine will never know. He knows he should feel guilty about that, that six degrees of sexual separation go a long way, but as an actor he lives his life to be someone else.
Sometimes, that's David's someone else.
He knows he should fight it, but he always gives up and gives in. He knows if he does it any other way, he'll spend he rest of his life looking for the quality of light that makes everything look just right.
Pairing: David/Joe
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 450
Summary: For Joe, belonging's always been variable.
Notes: Partner betrayal.
Originally Posted: January 16, 2006
The Quality of Light
They don't say much about it when it happens, which suits Joe just fine.
It's not a big deal, anyway. It's just something that happens.
And it doesn't happen often.
--------
He thought he'd outgrown these flights of fancy, but age brings, if not necessarily wisdom, at least some honest self-awareness. He knows you can't expect anything more responsible from a man who took up acting to pay the rent instead of retail or pizza delivery.
He's always felt ambivalent at best about responsibility.
And at least these flights don't require official documentation.
--------
He enjoys it more than he cares to admit.
The only catch is that David doesn't require an admission. He can see it in the early afternoon sunlight that warms the lazy sprawl of his limbs, the loose swagger that will carry him through the next two weeks on set.
But mostly, he can see it in his eyes.
--------
Sometimes, he forgets what he's doing until he sees it on screen.
He knows that Paul likes to watch the final cut when it airs, that Peter hates to, and that Torri can take it or leave it. He's in the take it or leave it camp, but the boys aren't so old yet that they don't still enjoy watching their dad play the hero. When he sees it, it's always unexpected: a smile offered a little too brightly, a gaze held a little too long. There's something more than McKay and Sheppard on screen, but something less than David and Joe. The thrill it gives him makes him sick to his stomach, especially with the boys sitting by his side.
But invariably, he finds himself idly studying the same patch of sunlight within the next week.
--------
Joe doesn't ask, but David says he doesn't think Jane would really mind. Joe can read between the lines; he knows the implication and the expectation of a response.
Instead, he slowly drags his hand through the air and says wonderingly, "The light is really weird in here, you know that?"
If he takes David's blue T-shirt when he leaves, the one worn thin and soft that also happens to be Jane's favorite, no one's the wiser.
--------
Jane and Katherine will never know. He knows he should feel guilty about that, that six degrees of sexual separation go a long way, but as an actor he lives his life to be someone else.
Sometimes, that's David's someone else.
He knows he should fight it, but he always gives up and gives in. He knows if he does it any other way, he'll spend he rest of his life looking for the quality of light that makes everything look just right.