...love and death and fire and water...
....."Where do you want this, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked as he stood in the doorway. Daniel stopped behind him, trying not to grow irritated.
"Just set it on the floor behind the sofa, Teal'c."
Teal'c moved, set the box down next to the others, then looked around as Daniel set his last box down on the kitchen table.
"I believe everything has been moved in," Teal'c stated.
Sam and Jack looked around and nodded.
"Thank Christ," Daniel said and sat down in one of the dining room chairs. "I can't believe I was gone seven days. It only seemed like a day."
"It...probably was, Daniel," Sam told him. "Oannes turns on its axis a lot slower than Earth does." She really had no idea what else to say. She knew Daniel was still miffed at her for not telling her everything that Jack had said about him at his funeral. And Jack seemed too damned embarrassed to talk.
Daniel pushed himself out of his chair, groaning. "Thanks, you guys, for helping me move my stuff in my new loft...and um, thanks for storing it for me," and he looked at Jack and Sam for that.
"You're welcome, Daniel," Sam said, smiling at him. Teal'c bowed his head and Jack barely looked at him when he nodded. Daniel frowned at him, then sighed.
"Well, I guess I'll take it from here, so how about you guys go back to your lives." He gave Sam a forgiving grin and she walked over and gave him a tight hug.
"I'm so glad you're home, Daniel."
"Me too," he replied.
Teal'c walked up to him, but instead of a hug, he received a hard squeeze on the shoulder. "As am I," he said, then followed Sam to the door.
Jack didn't say anything. He merely lingered, looking in boxes absentmindedly. Daniel pursed his lips, nodded to Sam to get going, so they did, but not before giving Jack a puzzled look as they went out the door.
Daniel closed the front door then went for the fridge, grabbed a beer - Jack's brand - and walked over to him after opening it.
"Here, Jack. This might loosen your tongue a little."
Jack frowned, then took the beer, and as he tilted his head back and took a long drink, his eyes settled on Daniel's and never left them. When he stopped drinking, he still didn't say anything. Not even 'thanks'. Daniel shook his head and stopped waiting to hear something from the man. He turned around and went into the kitchen, emptying boxes and putting things into the new cupboards.
What he didn't show was just how upset he was at Jack's behaviour. He could have shown him something, even if he wasn't an open man. He managed it with children; couldn't he manage it with Daniel? No...he instead showed everyone else on the base how upset he was at Daniel's apparent death...but he wouldn't even tell Daniel what he'd said at his funeral. Daniel wanted to yell, but he knew the man and knew it was useless. He knew he would just end up making Jack retreat.
Jack walked into the kitchen, finishing his beer as he watched Daniel put things away, knowing better than to help anyone move in. He was fine with moving boxes. But emptying them? Huh uh. He'd rather watch paint dry. Right now, however, he was trying to screw up the courage to tell Daniel what he'd said. It wasn't that big a deal but he'd never been that good at revealing deep feelings...until pushed to...and they'd never actually spoken about friendships or relationships. They'd just accepted; accepted the friendship, accepted the intimacy they'd shared. As teammates, it was usually inevitable to become friends. As friends, it wasn't inevitable to do what he and Daniel had done and Jack knew damn well that that disease four months ago and had really very little to do with what had happened. Though he and Daniel were so dramatically different, there was an attraction there...a pull. It was what was making him scared to talk about it, especially when Daniel's 'death' affected him more than he thought it would.
Jack hadn't thought that much about what had happened between them four months earlier, but he had thought about it some. Every time he jerked off, in fact. Daniel gave good head...and his dick tasted good. Those sense memories returned to him again and again...but only when he was alone...when things were quiet...when it was safe to think.
Apparently, now was a safe time to think as Jack was just then thinking about Daniel's dick as he watched him move from one step stool to the next, putting things on shelves. He looked at his long legs and that tight, round ass. His jeans, for once, emphasized what his body actually looked like. He knew then that the reason he was allowing himself to think...to think about what they'd shared...was because not being able to touch Daniel ever again was one of the things that he'd mourned. Now Daniel was here and all Jack could think of was touching him. And they were finally alone, weren't they? So it was safe for him to think...and maybe act. Maybe one more time. Special occasion? Maybe. His dick was certainly thinking for him.
Draining his bear and setting it in the garbage, he walked over to his friend as he stood on the top of the 12-inch high step stool and grabbed him by his waist and turned him around. Startled, Daniel almost dropped the glass dish he held.
"Dammit, Jack..." he said, carefully trying to set it down. Jack looked up at him with such intensity. "What?"
"I called you my friend at the funeral," was all he said.
Daniel stared down at him, looking at him for the longest time. Okay, so the man was opening up now. Finally. Daniel told himself not to be too hard on Jack and admonished himself for getting mad. Jack had been slowly - very slowly - learning to open up, even if it was through mostly sarcastic or flippant remarks. Daniel had learned from the first mission that Jack didn't let his personal feelings show that much. For him to have said that at the funeral, in front of everyone, was almost an admission of love...even if it wasn't. But almost. He knew he should have shown Jack more leniency earlier...and knew then just how much he'd come to need to hear something from the man. Most of the time, he got it. But he hadn't seen Jack this upset in a while and knew Jack was trying. He really was trying.
Daniel smiled gently and whispered, "Well after what happened between us a few months ago, I should think so."
Jack crooked a very, very tiny smile, then suddenly felt that sense memory coming back...of Daniel's mouth on his cock. It was definitely making him hard. He reached up and pulled Daniel downward by the back of his neck.
Daniel went with it, and he sort of expected a hug but Jack's lips found his instead, as well as his tongue. Daniel almost fell off the stool as they kissed as Jack pulled him down, intensifying their kiss, groaning into his throat, pulling him against him as he fell back against the counter. Jack's intent was obvious to Daniel...and he knew that the only way, for now, that Jack would express how he felt would be through sex of some kind. Daniel didn't mind one bit either, as he felt his own desire quickly asserting itself. He groaned loudly as Jack rubbed a hand against his groin, then again as Jack began to open his jeans. He let him. Daniel wanted to feel Jack more than he had been realizing.
Jack broke the kiss suddenly and Daniel was sure he heard Jack whisper something about needing to taste him. Suddenly, the man was on his knees, pulling his jeans down, then his shorts. Daniel gasped with incredulity as Jack didn't bother with any other foreplay and simply took his dick in his mouth. Short but loud gasps escaped Daniel's throat as he carded his fingers through Jack's hair, calling out encouragement. Jack busied himself, pleasuring him so well that within three minutes, Daniel felt himself tense, the warm, wonderful ecstasy releasing as he came down Jack's throat. His fingers dug into Jack's shoulders as he cried out, wordlessly, his body jerking through the spasms.
Jack stood up, a smug smile on his lips before kissing Daniel hard and fiercely before he had time to recover. When he did, he made sure that the only sounds Jack made in the next five minutes were the distinctive cries of a man getting an expert blow job. Leaning against the wall, Jack watched Daniel going down on him, his head moving back and forth as his hands held him, thrusting gently but leaving most of the movement to Daniel's expert skill. When Daniel tightened his mouth and throat, Jack choked back all sound for about five seconds before calling out harshly, "Fucking hell, Danny!"
This was what he'd been dreaming about, fantasizing about, what he felt he'd miss most, but as he came, he knew that it wasn't all that he'd missed. Daniel meant more to him than he thought he did and this seemed to be the only way he felt they could show each other.
When he'd softened, Daniel moved off and stood, then kissed him deeply before tucking Jack's dick back into his pants. They grinned softly at each other, but didn't say anything for the longest time. Instead, Jack helped him put his things away, somehow not finding it as distasteful a job as he had before. When at last they did speak, Daniel asked,
"So, what did you really do with my fish, Jack?"
A month later, after Daniel had his apartment settled and his life seemingly going in the direction he wanted it to, he ran into a road block of major proportions...