No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred. No money was made from the writing or posting of any content on this fan site.
chelle's site is maintained by chelle.
Squatting down, Jack pokes the fire. It isn't burning quite enough to suit him, but then few things do. He sits back in his chair, wondering if this is the time Daniel won't come.
He wonders that every time.
He almost cancelled, almost called Daniel and called it off. He does that every time, too.
Resting his head against the back of the chair, he tries to figure out how many times they've done this. It seems like a lot, but it can't be. They were never able to get away more than three or four times a year, and Daniel was gone for a long time.
Twenty-one. This will be the twenty-first time they've done this, snuck away like thieves in the night, or adulterous lovers, which in a way they are. They used to use fake names, at least sometimes, trying never to establish a pattern. Sometimes Daniel would go to a different city, claiming he needed to see an exhibit or peruse a library, or just wanted to visit. He'd fly there, stay the night, and then drive to where Jack was.
Anything to keep from getting caught.
Jack told himself, more than once, that he should stop, give up the military, retire and be free to do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. But Jack didn't know who he'd be without the Air Force. It was too deeply ingrained in him.
And he knew too well who he'd be without Daniel.
Pushing himself out of the chair and away from his thoughts, Jack goes into the kitchen. There's a bottle of brandy on the counter and he pours himself a snifter. Daniel bought him brandy when he was promoted, telling him it was a general's drink. Jack didn't tell him that whiskey was a general's drink. Instead, he bought snifters and discovered he liked the taste. Or maybe he just liked the feel of the snifter in his hand.
Jack takes a sip and looks out the window. The cabin is on the edge of the woods and the kitchen window faces a field. It's grey and drizzly out, another late fall day coming to an end. Jack's never really liked fall.
It's too much like autumn.
He catches sight of headlights beyond the edge of the field and starts to smile. Daniel.
"You found it," Jack says when Daniel enters.
Daniel shakes the rain out of his hair and smiles. "I always find it, Jack."
I always find you. Jack's pretty sure that's what Daniel is really saying. Jack watches as he takes off his coat and boots. Daniel is an incredibly good-looking man and Jack takes pride in that, even though he had nothing to do with it. "Brandy?" he asks.
Daniel follows him into the kitchen. "Seems like a nice place," he says as Jack pours his drink.
"The bathroom is too small, but it's clean."
"What about the bedroom?" Daniel asks with a grin.
Daniel is the worst flirt ever. "It's clean, too," Jack says.
Jack kisses him, because Daniel has been here for nearly five minutes and they haven't touched yet. Daniel returns the kiss, arms sliding around Jack, pulling him close. They kiss like it isn't the first kiss they've shared in months, like they get to do this everyday, whenever they want. It isn't lying; it's pretending.
Setting his glass on the counter, Jack slides his hand into Daniel's hair, deepening the kiss. Daniel's already hard. Jack isn't, but he's getting there.
Daniel draws back from their kiss, but he still has his arms around Jack. "What's for dinner?"
Daniel frowns, then asks, "Lettuce and tomato?"
"Do I look like a philistine?"
"You look a man who can't spell 'philistine.'"
Jack slides his hand down Daniel's front to his cock and squeezes it. "Play nice, Daniel."
Daniel covers his hand, keeping it pressed against Daniel's cock. "I am being nice."
"I bought a tomato just for you."
Daniel pushes his hips forward, rubbing his cock against Jack's hand. "Remind me to thank you later."
"Count on it." Jack kisses him again before getting out the frying pan.
They chat and drink while Jack cooks. Movies, TV, sports, they talk about everything but the SGC. Daniel doesn't need to tell him about the Ori, anyway. Jack's read the reports, attended the meetings.
Daniel eats his burger like it's the best thing he's ever eaten. He eats everything that way. Jack figures it was something his parents taught him. Jack watches him, enjoying the fact that in this, at least, Daniel hasn't changed.
After dinner Daniel goes in to the bedroom, claiming he needs to unpack, and Jack follows him, sitting on the bed while Daniel pulls jeans, underwear, socks, and a handful of shirts from his military duffle and sticks them in a drawer. He takes his toothbrush and shaving kit into the bathroom and when he comes back into the room he shoves the duffle under the bed.
It's all part of the illusion. No suitcases to remind them that this is only temporary. Not that either of them ever forgets.
Daniel sits beside him and they're kissing, only this time there isn't any pretending, just need. Jack can't quite believe that Daniel still needs him, and he thinks for a moment that maybe Daniel doesn't. Maybe he's the only one who needs now, and Daniel is just repaying him for the times he needed Jack.
But Daniel's hands go to his shirt and Jack knows it isn't just him.
The twenty-first time. They must've spent more weekends than that doing this. Must have, because Daniel knows just where to press his lips, just where to touch. Jack is fully hard, sucking in a breath in anticipation when Daniel undoes his belt.
He lifts his hips, helping Daniel push his pants off. Then he tugs Daniel's shirt over his head. Daniel is all muscle these days, making his body both familiar and uncomfortably new.
Jack skims his hands over Daniel's chest, enjoying the feel of smooth skin. Then he lifts his head to mouth a path across Daniel's shoulder. Daniel's skin is warm beneath his lips.
Daniel kisses him, slow and deep and Jack groans. They part and Jack fumbles Daniel's pants open. Then it's just Daniel's skin against his, Daniel's mouth drawing him in, Daniel's groans urging him closer.
He's sore afterwards, but Daniel is resting his head on Jack's chest so he doesn't really mind.
"How's Washington?" Daniel asks, running his fingers through Jack's chest hair. It tickles, but Jack doesn't tell him to stop.
"That bad, huh?"
"Yes." Jack strokes Daniel's fingers with his and Daniel's hand stills.
He presses a kiss to Jack's chest, and Jack closes his eyes.
He wakes to the sound of honking. Daniel stirs beside him, making a questioning sound. "Migrating geese," Jack whispers, kissing his shoulder and sliding from the bed. He relieves himself in the bathroom and goes to the kitchen to start coffee.
Jack listens to the coffee percolating, and watches groups of birds land on the field while others take off, flying in a seemingly effortless formation, the sun rising behind them.
He's still watching when Daniel comes up behind him, a blanket around his shoulders and wraps his arms around Jack's waist. Jack leans into his warmth. He hadn't realized he was cold.
"They're going to wake us up every morning aren't they?" Daniel asks, resting his chin on Jack's shoulder.
"I'm okay with that."
"Yeah," Jack says, "me, too." Daniel awake is better than Daniel asleep, and Daniel watching the birds with him is almost as good as Daniel doing other things with him. Reaching around, Jack grabs the edges of the blanket, tucking it around them both.
The coffee finishes and Daniel moves away, reaching for a cup. Jack lets him go, knowing that as soon as he's poured them both a cup he'll be back to look at the birds.
And rest his scratchy chin on Jack's shoulder.