Stargate -- "Not With a Bang"
slash_100, prompt 003: Ends
big damn table
Not With a Bang | Prompt 003: Ends | R | 700 words
“We can’t do this anymore,” Jack said one morning as he got out of bed, padding over to the closet and pulling on a robe. The warm sunlight pouring through the window seemed to mock him, the cloudless sky at odds with his less than happy task.
“Can’t do what?” Daniel asked, blinking in just-woken confusion. Jack refused to look at him, not wanting to see his finger-combed hair, the hickey low on his right collarbone, or the stickiness across his abdomen; it was enough that Jack was wincing slightly as he walked and that he was sticky, too. He’d meant to have this conversation last night, before they could do something they’d later regret, but Daniel had just been too…well, Daniel, to resist. Jack really liked to think that he had self-control; he just couldn’t help himself around the other man. This wasn’t the first time he had seen that as a weakness.
“This,” he said with an all-encompassing gesture that took Daniel’s stained, rumpled sheets, the small suitcase parked in the corner, and Jack’s dress blues hanging on Daniel’s closet door. “We’ve got to stop.”
Jack watched hopelessly as Daniel’s expression snapped from contented morning sleepiness to the blank, detached mask he wore in dangerous situations. “Dare I ask why?” he asked, standing and moving to the dresser. Jack fought to tear his eyes from their exploration of Daniel’s naked form, so different now than it had been when they’d first met more than a decade before. “Jack?” Daniel’s voice drew his attention to his face, and Jack didn’t like the fact that he had no idea what the other man was thinking. “Have people been asking questions? Has the NID been on your back?”
“No,” Jack said slowly, and Daniel crossed his arms over his bare chest. Jack tried to ignore the fact that he had an intimate knowledge of that chest, the choked gasp Daniel made when Jack ran his tongue over one of his nipples, the spray of freckles just below his left collarbone, the feel of muscles moving under that smooth, lightly-tanned skin. “I just don’t want to take the chance,” he managed to choke out.
“Changed your mind, then?” Daniel said, and his tone took on a bit of the mocking air he only used when addressing Goa’uld and Priors. “It took you how many years to decide to take the risk, and then you change your mind six months later?”
Jack opened his mouth to speak but Daniel stopped him with a gesture. “I guess should have expected as much. We never said anything. I just thought we didn’t have to.” Daniel turned away and began digging around for a pair of boxers, but Jack saw the hint of pain in his eyes.
“I...I’m sorry, Danny,” Jack said, taking a step toward him, but Daniel stopped him with a gesture.
“Don’t call me that,” Daniel said softly, shoulders uncharacteristically stiff and face turned away. “I guess you know where the door is by now, right?” For the first time in years - probably since right after his descension - Daniel’s body language was totally closed and Jack had no idea what he was thinking.
“Daniel,” Jack began, not sure what to say, but Daniel cut him off with a raised hand. Jack stared and Daniel’s unyielding back for a few minutes, memorizing the play of muscles under golden skin as Daniel dressed for another day at the mountain. “Please understand,” he said finally, but Daniel shook his head.
“Get the hell out,” Daniel said, turning to face Jack at last. Those eyes that Jack loved so much were icy, chilling Jack to the bone. What had he done? “It’s the least you can do. I would have thought a decade of friendship would have counted for something.”
Jack felt Daniel’s eyes on him as he gathered his things and left the room. He dressed in the hallway in silence, packed the rest of his things, and then let himself out the front door, dropping his copy of Daniel’s key through the mail slot. Looking back once more as he pulled his rented car out of Daniel’s driveway, Jack hoped he’d done the right thing.
Feedback is better than chocolate.
big damn table
Not With a Bang | Prompt 003: Ends | R | 700 words
“We can’t do this anymore,” Jack said one morning as he got out of bed, padding over to the closet and pulling on a robe. The warm sunlight pouring through the window seemed to mock him, the cloudless sky at odds with his less than happy task.
“Can’t do what?” Daniel asked, blinking in just-woken confusion. Jack refused to look at him, not wanting to see his finger-combed hair, the hickey low on his right collarbone, or the stickiness across his abdomen; it was enough that Jack was wincing slightly as he walked and that he was sticky, too. He’d meant to have this conversation last night, before they could do something they’d later regret, but Daniel had just been too…well, Daniel, to resist. Jack really liked to think that he had self-control; he just couldn’t help himself around the other man. This wasn’t the first time he had seen that as a weakness.
“This,” he said with an all-encompassing gesture that took Daniel’s stained, rumpled sheets, the small suitcase parked in the corner, and Jack’s dress blues hanging on Daniel’s closet door. “We’ve got to stop.”
Jack watched hopelessly as Daniel’s expression snapped from contented morning sleepiness to the blank, detached mask he wore in dangerous situations. “Dare I ask why?” he asked, standing and moving to the dresser. Jack fought to tear his eyes from their exploration of Daniel’s naked form, so different now than it had been when they’d first met more than a decade before. “Jack?” Daniel’s voice drew his attention to his face, and Jack didn’t like the fact that he had no idea what the other man was thinking. “Have people been asking questions? Has the NID been on your back?”
“No,” Jack said slowly, and Daniel crossed his arms over his bare chest. Jack tried to ignore the fact that he had an intimate knowledge of that chest, the choked gasp Daniel made when Jack ran his tongue over one of his nipples, the spray of freckles just below his left collarbone, the feel of muscles moving under that smooth, lightly-tanned skin. “I just don’t want to take the chance,” he managed to choke out.
“Changed your mind, then?” Daniel said, and his tone took on a bit of the mocking air he only used when addressing Goa’uld and Priors. “It took you how many years to decide to take the risk, and then you change your mind six months later?”
Jack opened his mouth to speak but Daniel stopped him with a gesture. “I guess should have expected as much. We never said anything. I just thought we didn’t have to.” Daniel turned away and began digging around for a pair of boxers, but Jack saw the hint of pain in his eyes.
“I...I’m sorry, Danny,” Jack said, taking a step toward him, but Daniel stopped him with a gesture.
“Don’t call me that,” Daniel said softly, shoulders uncharacteristically stiff and face turned away. “I guess you know where the door is by now, right?” For the first time in years - probably since right after his descension - Daniel’s body language was totally closed and Jack had no idea what he was thinking.
“Daniel,” Jack began, not sure what to say, but Daniel cut him off with a raised hand. Jack stared and Daniel’s unyielding back for a few minutes, memorizing the play of muscles under golden skin as Daniel dressed for another day at the mountain. “Please understand,” he said finally, but Daniel shook his head.
“Get the hell out,” Daniel said, turning to face Jack at last. Those eyes that Jack loved so much were icy, chilling Jack to the bone. What had he done? “It’s the least you can do. I would have thought a decade of friendship would have counted for something.”
Jack felt Daniel’s eyes on him as he gathered his things and left the room. He dressed in the hallway in silence, packed the rest of his things, and then let himself out the front door, dropping his copy of Daniel’s key through the mail slot. Looking back once more as he pulled his rented car out of Daniel’s driveway, Jack hoped he’d done the right thing.
Feedback is better than chocolate.