The Writings of Sonata Night

Tue, 09 Dec 2008 20:22:06 GMT

Title: Top Gear Stables (2/?)
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairing: James/Richard
Summary: James May is a Thoroughbred trainer looking for a job, and he finds himself involved with Jeremy Clarkson, the owner of four horses, and Richard Hammond, Jeremy's exercise rider.
Notes: Well, they do like to go fast - Thoroughbreds are pretty fast. :P If this is terribly OOC, sorry. There have been modifications to their age, although I tried to keep the same distance in ages, which makes an 18 year old Richard and 26 year old James kind of ... interesting to write.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.

The first horse they approached was the first horse that James had seen as he arrived two days previous, the one that had begun to run alongside the car as they passed. A beautiful bright bay colt, his exquisitely sculpted face curiously peered at James as they approached.

"The only biter is Midnight Bliss," Jeremy informed James. "So feel free to pat them if you'd like," and James lifted his hand, flat palm up, and let the colt sniff at it, then shove his head forward to curiously lip at James' shirt. James smiled, brought his arm up and rubbed his palm along the horse's withers and up to his ears, tugged very gently at the tip of one, and the horse snorted loudly.

"Meet Lively Attraction. He's one of our two-year-olds, and he looks like he has quite some potential. He's fast, anyways, and when he wants to, he can beat any of the other horses here. His only problem is he likes to be lazy." Richard introduced the horse, also rubbing his hand along the colt's neck, the other side, and Lively Attraction whinnied, pleased at all the attention he was getting.

"He's also the biggest, vainest, and possibly neediest horse ever. If he could, he would just crawl in your lap and sleep there." Jeremy added. "We call him 'Live' for short. Here, I'll introduce you to our other colt." The colts were on one side and the fillies on the other side of the aisle, it appeared.

James kept his distance from Midnight Bliss, who snorted and pinned his ears back slightly as they stood outside his stall, chewing on hay. Richard laughed. "We get along well. We're both a bit... well..."

"Shouty?" Jeremy cut in.

"I was going to say spirited." Richard frowned at him. "But if you want to put it that way. We just call him Night, because Bliss is certainly not what he is. Well, blissful anyways."

James laughed. "And how is he on the track?"

"Well, he's sort of like Lively Attraction in that he's fast - but it's so that he can bite at the other horses. With blinkers on, he doesn't bite, but he doesn't perform as well. He's still fast, and we're hoping with some training, we can get him focused." Jeremy answered. "Now, onto the fillies."

James turned to see a plain brown filly, delicately built and with an inquisitive look on her face, staring at him. "Well, you're a pretty girl," he murmured to her. Her ears pricked forward at his soft, low voice, and she pushed herself against the stall to sniff at him.

"Can you tell she's a half-sister to Live back there?" Richard asked, a smile on his face. She turned to him, snorted, and sniffed his shoulder, then looked at him almost expectantly. "I know, I know, I forgot your carrot. I'll bring you one tomorrow, Kiz," he patted her nose lightly and she retreated into the corner, as if scorned.

"She's got quite a bit of character. Even more than Live does," Jeremy said. "She's not as fast as he is though. And finally, meet TG."

A pale palomino filly approached, her features course, her frame built more like a colt's than a fillies, but her gaze smart. "TG?" James asked.

"Short for Top Gear Dog. Richard commented that she was a bit of a dog when I brought her home, and somehow, Top Gear Dog seemed to fit. And TG might be a bit of a dog to look at, but she's faster than Kiz and Night and can keep pace with Live when they're both going full-out. She's not afraid to run with the colts, either. She's smart, and she'll try to take a hole that you might not even see. She's not very big for a two-year-old, but I think she'll do well on the track."

James looked around at the four horses he had to train, and found himself very pleased with the stable he was at. "Well, I think tomorrow we should get them all out on the track and see how they do. Can I see what you've done so far or how they've been trained, Jeremy?"

Jeremy frowned. "I don't know much about their histories at all. I know that Night took fourth in a race once, and the other three he was in, he was lost somewhere in the back of the pack. Kismet only raced a few times. She took first once, and then had a couple of thirds, and then again, sort of drifted in the middle. TG only ran a few races, but she got either first or second in all but one, taking fifth in that. A lot of these horses came from the same stables - they were going out of business."

"Ah, I was wondering how you got the three-year-olds at the auctions. I haven't seen too many there." James said. "And how about Live?"

"He's done the most. He ran first several times, second just as many, and a few other races. The worst he's done is fifth. But I don't know how they were trained. I was hoping you could figure out a training schedule for them."

"I think I'll have them go out for three furlongs each at a slow gallop and breeze them two furlongs to see how they do." James said. "All of them, just to get an idea of what to focus on."

"Great. What time do you think you'll be showing up for that?"

"Say, six in the morning?" James answered. He laughed at Jeremy's face. "What time have you been exercising them?" He asked.

"Eight!"

James laughed. "No, no, get up early and get them exercised so that your day is free to do other things, like make sure you have enough grain and hay for them, or make sure the tack is clean and in good condition."

"I've hired an incredibly nitpicky trainer, haven't I?" Jeremy asked. James shrugged. He didn't think he was too picky, just enough to keep things clean and attractive.

Richard saved James with, "Well, actually, Jeremy, he's right. We should make sure this place looks as nice as it should, and the grain is running a bit low. I was helping Jason out with feeding yesterday and we're down to maybe a week's worth."

"Oh, really? How come he hasn't mentioned it to me yet?" Jeremy asked. "He knows I like to keep more than that around. He should have told me a week ago!"

"Yeah, well." Richard blushed and looked at the ground. "I may have, erhm, well, told him that I'd tell you."

"And why didn't you!" Jeremy asked, exasperated.

"I kinda ... forgot." Richard finished somewhat lamely. James smiled only slightly at the expression on Richard's face, very embarrassed but also somehow boyish. He nudged Richard's toe with his and offered that smile to Richard who returned it faintly, enough that Jeremy didn't see.

"Good lord, I have an idiot and an obsessive person working for me. And my jockey refuses to speak or let anyone see his face. How in the world did this happen to me?" Jeremy asked.

Richard murmured, "So, I think that's our cue to leave." James decided to agree with Richard and the two of them quietly snuck away from Jeremy as he stalked off, presumably to the office to order more grain.

"So, you got the Stig, huh?" Richard asked. James shrugged.

"Well, more like Jeremy got the Stig after some negotiations. I just knew that he'd ridden for my friend last. If anyone can turn these horses into winners, it's the Stig." James said.

"Well, and you. I hope. You're the trainer, aren't you?" Richard asked, and James rolled his eyes.

"Yes, but I'm just getting them into shape and ready for the races, and you know that. The Stig will be riding them in races. So, are you looking into getting your license?"

"I'm only a few rides away from getting it, actually." Richard answered. "Four more races and I'm not a bug anymore."

"Really?" James asked. A bug was a nickname for an apprentice jockey. The asterisk that appeared next to the jockey's name looked a bit bug-like. In a few races, as long as he won them, the asterisk would disappear from next to Richard's name and he'd be a fully licensed jockey. Of course, winning wasn't always easy, so it could take a while longer.

"Yeah. I'm riding in a race tomorrow, actually," Richard said. "Chasing Thunder, have you heard of him?"

James nodded. "Yeah, actually, I have." The six-year-old stallion was older than most of the horses but still a good horse to ride. He'd done well in stakes races when he was younger, and now was unfortunately being shuffled around in claimers. Deep grey, he had recently made a comeback with the Native Dancer Handicap, having taken first and third respectively. He was going to run too soon, in James' opinion, only about a week after his first race, and with a bit more time off, he could do well. He mentioned this to Richard, who nodded.

"This is a bit of a favor to the owners. We're friends and their other jockey just broke his leg - that's why I was a day late in coming back. So this is really - in any other condition, I wouldn't do it." James understood. He still wasn't sure what Richard was doing was right, but he understood.

"I understand," James said. "Well, I'll let you go since in about fourteen hours you'll be back here and ready to go on the backs of these guys and then you'll be off to the races."

Richard smiled. "Would you be interested in joining me? I mean, at the races. I'd be more than happy to have you give me your opinion after it's over as to how I could improve. Or if I'm even any good," he added. James glanced at him.

"If you've almost lost your bug, I'm sure you're decent. Especially at what, nineteen?" James hoped Richard was older than nineteen and just looked young. Unfortunately he wasn't.

"Eighteen, actually. I'll be nineteen in January." Richard answered. James sighed. Well, that wasn't far away. It would be easier having feelings for an almost-twenty year old than an almost-almost twenty year old.

Now his brain wasn't making sense. Probably because he was tired. He hadn't slept well the night before. He glanced around. "Here, I've got to get going - I have some errands to run and some things to do at home but sure, I'd like to come with and see you ride. Where are you riding?"

"Beulah," Richard answered. "I'll be riding in the number 6 race."

James nodded. "Alright, well, then, I'll see you tomorrow, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

"And swearing like a sailor at the fact that I have to be up that early," Richard responded with a grin. James grinned back, feeling very stupid and very much like he was having his first crush all over again. It was just Richard's eyes that got him, and his quirky grin, and his loudness, and just the way he seemed to gesture with his hands no matter what he said.

Oh, dear. He was most certainly quickly falling, and most certainly in trouble and although he slept soundly that night, his dreams were filled with thoughts of Richard.

Tue, 09 Dec 2008 18:48:55 GMT

Title: Top Gear Stables
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairing: James/Richard
Summary: James May is a Thoroughbred trainer looking for a job, and he finds himself involved with Jeremy Clarkson, the owner of four horses, and Richard Hammond, Jeremy's exercise rider.
Notes: Well, they do like to go fast - Thoroughbreds are pretty fast. :P If this is terribly OOC, sorry. There have been modifications to their age, although I tried to keep the same distance in ages, which makes an 18 year old Richard and 26 year old James kind of ... interesting to write.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.

A roar echoed amongst the small crowd huddled around the finish line of Keeneland Racetrack. Among them was a 26-year-old man with long brown hair clutching a racing form in his hand. Just visible was the circled name "Bright White L-" and then the rounded pamphlet disappeared into his fist.

"And dooown the stretch the come, with Kelly Mary and Bright White Light battling it out for the lead! Behind them is Queenly Treasure in third, with Flyaway Lady and Pretty Bella in fourth and fifth respectively. It's a close call, and one of these little fillies is going to prove themselves today in the Arlington-Washington Lassie Stakes."

Kelly Mary, the number two horse, was ahead by half a length, her pale chestnut coat gleaming under the sunlight. Behind her, fighting for the lead with only a furlong to go was Bright White Light, a dark chestnut covered in sweat so that she almost appeared black. On her back was a jockey who looked just as intense as the horse, and he hand-rode her, urging her forward with calls into her ear. Every stride she took brought her inches closer to the lead, till her nose bobbed side by side with the lighter-coloured filly. With a burst of speed, she flashed past the finish line with half her head in front.

"And it's Bright White Light who inches ahead to take the win today!"

"Yes!" The man punched the air, then caught and composed himself. As the horses turned to return to the paddock, Bright White Light pranced along, exhausted but still full of spirit, and her jockey, known only as The Stig (and just as mysteriously dressed in white silks and a small white helmet), - larger than most jockeys at 5'7" inches, but still plenty slender enough to be a jockey - was calm on her back.

As they posed amongst the crowd, the man made his way up to the electronic betting and inserted his ticket. A minute later, forty-odd dollars were spat from the machine. He pocketed the money and then headed for the door. This was the only race he'd come here for, and the rest weren't that important.

His name was James May. He was finally having luck - he was a Thoroughbred trainer who had been looking for a job for about six months now, enough that his financial situation was becoming a bit grim. His luck was about to change even more in a few minutes.

As he threaded his way amongst the crowd to his car, a 1975 Rolls Royce Corniche, he overheard a man speaking into a phone. "But I'm more than willing to - No, please, you have to understand that there is nobody else who I can afford - oh, to hell with you, then!" With a snap, the man closed his phone and shoved it in his pocket furiously. He muttered, "Can't find a bloody trainer anywhere nowadays who's willing to work for a decent fee, not some outrageous expense."

James slowly approached the man. "Erhm, hello?"

The man glanced at him. "What?" His curly grey hair was not cut very attractively, but at 6'5", he was an imposing figure.

James offered his hand. "James May. Hi. I overheard your conversation - you're looking for a trainer?"

"I'm Jeremy Clarkson. And yes, I am, if only I could find one willing to work for six hundred dollars a week. Even these new, barely experienced trainers want something like a thousand dollars a week. And seeing as I just bought four horses, I'll be lucky if I can afford to pay them five hundred for a while." Although he was a horse owner, unlike most of the men who came to the races, he was dressed in jeans.

"I'm a trainer looking for a job. Could I offer my services under the condition that I get to check out your stable and make sure you're a decent fellow to your horses?" James pushed a lock of hair away from his face, knowing he looked slightly disheveled from being outside in the wind.

Jeremy sized up James. "How long have you been a trainer?" He asked. "No, you know what, never mind. I'm not going to question you. I need a trainer and a jockey and as long as you're willing to work for me, I'm willing to let you. And we'll see as we go - if you're a horrid trainer, then I'll just fire you." He said it almost with a slight glee in his voice near the end.

James made a face but followed Jeremy to the parking lot. After he'd driven Jeremy to his car, a Mercedes-Benz 600 - "a gift from my wife", he'd added with a smirk-smile - they were on their way to Jeremy's barn. It was about a half an hour away, and when they arrived, James found himself admiring the small but lovely building, the pastures, and the fact that Jeremy had managed to buy some quality horses, from what he could see of the two horses grazing in the pasture. One threw its head up as the car approached, whinnied loudly, and began to gallop across the pasture. James watched its sleek legs, graceful movement, and saw the spark in its eyes as they passed.

He already knew he wanted to work for this barn.

As Jeremy led him into the barn, he saw the groom leading in the other horse he'd seen outside. A dark blue roan, it snorted at him and eyed him warily, ears going back slightly. The groom hurried forward with the horse.

"Sorry, Midnight Bliss is a tad bit bad-tempered to strangers." Jeremy explained. "He was sort of an accidental buy. I didn't mean to bid on him, but my arm had an odd spasm and jerked up a bit and the caller assumed I was bidding. I wasn't, but nobody else bid on him after me, and so three thousand dollars later, I had a fourth horse instead of three. I'm not sure he's got much in him, but I think he might do alright in smaller races."

"Oh? How old are your horses?"

"Two two-year-olds, two three-year-olds. One of each sex. He's one of the three-year-olds." Jeremy explained. "By the way, that was Jason Dawe, our groom. Our exercise rider is Richard Hammond - you'll meet him later. We just need to get a jockey."

"You don't have a jockey?" James asked. "Is Richard licensed as a jockey?"

"No, not yet." Clarkson responded. "He's actually visiting a couple friends right now but he'll be back in a day. If you'd like, you can stay for dinner and we can discuss where we're going to find a jockey?"

James shook his head. "No, I think I can find you a jockey." The horse he'd bet on earlier was his friend's, and the jockey had ridden for his friend several times. He had a feeling that he could convince his friend to talk to The Stig about perhaps riding for Jeremy, see if they worked out.

It took a bit of convincing, apparently, for the Stig to ride these unknown horses for the unknown trainers, but after about an hour of negotiating through his friend, since apparently the Stig didn't talk. But it was done under the deal that Jeremy let him ride the horses as he see fit for the races. James knew that the Stig was a very good jockey, if not a bit eccentric, and wouldn't let Jeremy down. He would get the best out of the horses.

And it was somehow amazing that James, who had been out of work a day before, found himself with four horses to train, an owner that he was working for, and a jockey to ride for them. He was curious to meet the exercise rider, but he contented himself to go home and enjoy a few glasses of wine, lulling himself to sleep with a gentle buzz.

Two days later, he returned. "Okay, so, here are some tracks that we could look into. Beulah is about three hours away," they were located a bit out of Lexington, Kentucky, "and Hawthorne if you don't mind driving about six hours up to Illinois. Laurel Park is even further, about eight hours away. Then Meadowlands, which is ten hours, Philadelphia Park, and Tampa Bay downs." He'd made the list methodically, in alphabetical order, although he'd contemplated in distance

He was about to say more when a young man, probably in his late teens, came strolling from around the corner and up to Jeremy. "Hey, Jezza. I'm back from my little trip. You got my message that my friend broke his leg and I was in the hospital with him, right?"

"Yeah, I did, Richard."

This was Richard? James bit back a slight gulp. He was definitely attractive. With spiky brown hair, and matching brown eyes, a trim build, and a bright winning smile, James found himself staring at Richard just a bit.

He wondered how Jeremy or Richard would react if they found out that he was gay.

He tried to put that out of his mind and instead focused on Richard. "Well, you're certainly a tall one. Just like the Stig."

Richard raised his eyebrow. "The Stig? You're comparing me to the Stig?" He sounded quite amused. "I mean, I suppose I'm decent enough but I wouldn't say anywhere as near as good as the Stig."

Jeremy broke in. "I meant to tell you - we have our jockey. I think that's what James was bringing up."

Richard figured it out pretty quickly. "You mean we're going to have the Stig ride in our first race?"

"Once we figure out a race to enter, yes, we will. Once we find out how much training we need to do. James, would you like to look at the horses?" Jeremy asked. "They haven't been trained in about a week so they should be pretty high-energy."

James frowned slightly. "Sure, sure," he answered. "Have they been exercised at all? I mean, besides being turned out in the paddock?" He believed in exercising a horse at least once every three to at most four days if they weren't being trained.

Jeremy caught his glance. "I had Jason ride them a bit, but not as strenuously as I would have liked. If Richard had been here, they would have been properly exercised. I'm not neglecting the horses, don't worry. Here, let me introduce you to them."

James followed Jeremy down the aisle towards the first horse.

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 21:49:37 GMT

Title: Top Gear Takes On Pokémon! (1/?)
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: PG-13 for some swearing
Pairing: None in this segment, but eventually James/Richard
Summary: After an incident with the Stig transports Richard, Jeremy, and James to the world of Pokémon, they find themselves unable to get back home and being immersed in the diverse world of Pokémon.
Notes: I still am boggling at the fact that I’m writing almost PORN in a Pokémon crossover. Also, apparently the Microsoft Word Vista automatically adds in an é to “Pokemon”. And the Stig gets to have an actual background to being an alien! Or sort of. :D
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food – Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.

“How hard can it be?” Every time James hears Richard say those words, it doesn’t seem to carry the accompanying thought of Oh no, what's going to happen to us now which is what happens when Jeremy says those words. Because with Jeremy's plans, inevitably, something always goes terribly wrong. And it is indeed Jeremy who has said that to them. But it is Richard who has gotten them into this odd predicament.

It had been to get the Stig to show any reaction at all. They'd taken their turns showing off impressive cars and gotten no response. They'd done incredibly odd things, such as Jeremy mooning the Stig - the camera panned away for that one. Richard had taken it a step too far. He'd actually tried hugging the Stig.

And now they were ... well, James had no clue where they were. A nearby sign said "Pallet Town", but he'd never heard of it. In fact, he had no clue how they'd gotten there. He remembered Richard stupidly putting his arm around the Stig and a sort of electric feeling running along his spine, and an odd flash of blue light that seemed to come all around him, and then nothing at all. And then he'd opened his eyes and realised he was somewhere completely different from about five seconds ago.

He glanced at his watch. Or ... three hours ago? Well, that certainly was a big difference. He glanced over to see that Richard and Jeremy were nowhere to be found. He stood up slowly, dusted himself off. Glancing around, he saw small homes and he was going to kill Richard as soon as he saw him. "Richard? Jeremy?"

He heard nothing, saw nobody. Then there was a small scuttling sound and he turned to see a… he blinked. He must have hit his head or something and therefore needed to get medical attention seeing as there was a fairly large purple rat staring at him. Most rats that he’d seen were usually around half the size of this one.

A few moments later, it moved to sit up on its haunches. He was beginning to get rather disturbed by this. He backed up and the rat took a step forward curiously, watching him. “Sod off,” he said rather angrily. He kicked a rock at it, and although it didn’t hit the creature, it did make the rat scamper off into tall grasses nearby.

“Bloody hell, I’m stuck somewhere without any clue how to get home, I’m seeing things, and Richard and Jeremy are –“

“Right here,” and James turned to see Richard hurrying up. “Have you any idea where we’re at?” James scowled at him and went to give him a solid punch to the face but noticed a red welt just below Richard’s left eye.

“Has Jezzer already been at you, then?” He asked. Richard rolled his eyes. “Well, in that case,” he decided to let Richard off the hook, seeing as Richard was touching the lump on his face rather gingerly. “You do know that I’m going to kill you once we get back to the track.”

“What in god’s name made you think that hugging the Stig, let alone touching him at all, was a good idea?” Jeremy asked in disbelief.

“Well, I thought if we could get him to flail his arms or something –“ Richard explained in vain just as James punched him in the face. Apparently he wasn’t going to let him off the hook. Once Richard had stopped shouting and trying to return a solid punch at James, and Jeremy had gotten in between them and told them to “shut the hell up, you wankers,”

“What that’s?” Richard asked, peering past James. James turned to find three of the rats now staring at them, much closer.

“I have no clue. Wait, so, I’m not hallucinating?” James blinked and stumbled backwards, almost tripped over the rats, and as he fell, waving his arm, his elbow knocked something from the side of his belt. It was round and solid and he turned his head as he landed squarely on his arse to see a red and white ball about the size of a tomato hit the ground and pop open.

A stream of white light burst forth and James watched, confusion and more than a fair amount of worry growing on his face. Then, the light formed itself into a solid figure of what appeared to be a small cross between a cat and a fox. It yawned sleepily and looked up at him. “Eevee?”

James blinked. “Ee…what?” It took a cautious step forward, sniffed his leg, and then sat down and let out another sound, one that was clearly contentment. It turned its head and looked at the rat creatures who were now growling in anger and it too began to growl, standing up as its fur bristled. A row of wickedly sharp teeth were visible from the rats and James began to worry.

“Hey, I’ve got one too,” Jeremy said in surprise and James turned his head slightly to see Jeremy dropping a ball just like his had been. However, from his emerged a small … thing. It was a pale yellow with spikes on its head and it was in a white shell that covered the lower half of its body. The shell was splashed with red and blue shapes, mostly circular information. “Togepriiii!” it chirruped loudly as it saw Jeremy and scurried towards him. However, Jeremy backed out of the way, and it tripped, landing on its head. Almost immediately, it began to cry loudly. Very loudly

Richard dropped his own red and white sphere curiously, and a furry red fox with several tails emerged, looking around with glossy dark eyes before letting out a soft, “Vulpix vul!” It saw the three rats and too became very agitated.

A few more rats appeared and soon a circle was forming around the three men and the three small creatures. The egg-thing sat up and stopped crying, instead looking around in alarm. “Togepi!” it whimpered and scurried behind the cat-fox, which turned and sniffed it, then wrapped its tail around the little creature. It growled at the now dozen rats who in turn advanced closer.

“Rrrrrattata!” Several of the rats cried out and then one leapt forward towards the multiple-tailed red fox which darted out of the way, sending the rat skidding along the ground before the fox leapt forward and slammed its body against the other creature’s, causing it to faint.

There was absolute silence from everyone for a split second, and then Richard exploded into “What in bloody hell is going on?” just as James said in a sort of surprised terror, “They’re attacking us, oh god,” and Jeremy spat out, “Richard, you utter pillock, this is all your fault!”

The rats seemed to sweep forward, but the two fox-like creatures were fast, darting around and growling, crashing into them with their bodies and protecting the little egg-thing, which stared and danced around, making odd chirping noises of worry.

Still, with almost a dozen of the rats against the two foxes, it didn’t take long before the fox-things were panting and struggling to even stand up, although they still growled fiercely and eyes shone brightly with spirit. But even as they did so, the one that had come from James’ sphere whimpered, “…vee…” and collapsed to the ground.

Moments later, the other let out a soft “…vul…” and with a final lunge, barely grazed the rat it was attacking. The egg-thing blinked, chirped again, and watched as the rats advanced forward. “Priiii!” it squeaked out and waved its little finger tips back and forth. Moments later, glittering stars formed from around it and shot forward, encircling and knocking into the rats. “Priiii, toge-togepriii!” it chanted, sounding delighted, and then a moment later, fingers now glowing brightly, it yawned heavily.

For a moment, it seemed like they were going to die at the sharp teeth of a bunch of odd purple rats, but as the egg-creature stopped yawning, the rats all seemed to slow down, and then began to yawn themselves before stumbling around and falling asleep.

“What… what the hell?” Richard stammered out. The egg-thing scurried back to Jeremy and stared up at him adoringly.

“Pi-pi-pi!” The little egg thing tugged at Jeremy’s leg, which caused him to stumble backwards and almost step on it. It darted out of the way and waved its arms, dancing about gleefully as if this was one big game. Before they could do anything, a young woman ran up to them. The first thing that James noticed was her hair, which was a brilliant blue, describle only as lapis blue. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. She wore a purple tee-shirt with a navy jean jacket over it, white jeans with a belt of yellow, orange, and blue jewels fastened upon it, along with two matching balls like theirs, with matching white slip-on sneakers with squiggles in orange, blue, and yellow all over them. She glanced at the fallen creatures on the ground.

“Oh thank god, I heard a noise and looked out my window and saw you just as your Togepi was attacking,” she pointed at a nearby house that overlooked where they were standing, “and I came to make sure that you were okay or if you needed help.” She smiled kindly at them. “I’m glad that your Togepi managed to defend you. The Rattata around here can be pretty rough.”

“Wha-?” James got out. “Is that what those things were? Rattatas?” He pointed at the still sleeping rats. “And should we get away from them before they wake up?”

She winced. “Oh, yeah, that might be a smart idea. You should call back your Pokémon, though, and I’ll give them some potions back at my place.” Jeremy stared at the little thing, the Togepi, as it apparently seemed to be called, that was still right next to his shoe. He looked at the little ball that it had come from and touched a small button that was in the center of it, which caused the ball to pop open. With a flash of light, the creature disappeared back into the ball, which snapped shut almost on Jeremy’s finger.

James and Richard exchanged glances and followed suit, their confusion too much to deal with right now. Hopefully this girl would be able to explain what was going on.

She ushered them back to her house, which read “Aquinnah” along the mailbox. “I’m Troya,” by the way. She extended her hand in greeting. “Troya Aquinnah. My family owns a small farm of racing Ponytas and I’m a jockey for them sometimes.” She was slim, but she wasn’t as short as most jockeys were, being probably two inches taller than Richard. “Plus, I have my own Ponyta that I occasionally battle, but I haven’t had time to leave and become a true Pokémon trainer on my own. But I’m going to turn seventeen tomorrow and my parents said that since I’ll finally be an adult, I can go on my own quest. I’ve been with them for a while, helping out with the house work. But it looks like Leyna is finally getting her act together – Leyna’s our top racer – and money’s not so tight so I’ll be able to leave!”

She spoke quickly, moved quickly, sat them down and poured them glasses of water and offered them a slice of cake which they politely declined. “So, who’re you?”

James noticed that she spoke very properly, enunciating each word correctly, but she had a slight underlying French accent. He shook his head. “I’m, uh,” and then he got his act together. “James May. And this is Richard Hammond and Jeremy Clarkson. We’re on the show “Top Gear” together. Could you tell us where we’re at? We were just in Surrey a few minutes ago.”

“Surrey? I’m not sure I’ve heard of that place,” she said. “Where’s it by? Is it a store?” Richard exchanged glances with James, who tried a more known place.

“England. We’re from England.” He explained further. She shook her head. “You’ve never heard of England?”

She shrugged. “I’ve heard of Tom England. He’s a Pokémon Master who almost became champion of the Indigo League a few years back. Now he opened up a small gym for new trainers so they can practice battling against assorted types and get to know what a gym battle is like before they face a real gym leader.” She looked at them. “Why are you looking at me like I have three heads?”

Richard spoke first. “Well, you see, we seem to have clearly all gone insane because you’re speaking what sounds like English but with some very strange words thrown in. For instance, Pokémon. What does Pokémon mean?”

She furrowed her brows and put down her glass of water. “What do you mean, what does Pokémon mean? You each have a Pokémon! Don’t play games with me. Where are you from? Tell me, or I’ll call the police!” Her eyes, which were amber, were angry and her hand was on the wall phone as she spoke.

Richard, James, and Jeremy glanced at each other, and Jeremy muttered, “I am really going to kill the Stig when get back to Surrey. And you, Richard.”

Troya had removed her hand from the phone. “Wait, you know the Stig?” She asked. She seemed more at ease now. “But you don’t know what Pokémon are? So it is true!”

“What’s true?” Richard asked. She pulled out a chair and sat down, twisting her long hair into a knot away from her face. “And how do you know the Stig?”

“The Stig was one of the more famous trainers fifteen years ago. Then, he just disappeared. His uncle was Professor Oak, who gave him his starting Pokémon and trained him. Some people said he had died or was living in a cave, but Professor Oak found an encrypted diary written in a secret language that the Stig had created. He had the best analyst he could get look at it and they finally were able to translate it. The Stig was claiming that with his Alakazam and Hypno, he had discovered how to not only teleport around in this world, but that he had discovered a new … well, I guess you could call it a move … called “Portal Vortex” which could open portals to other worlds. We all thought it was a joke, but if you’re saying you know the Stig, and you seem to be lost, then is it true? Are you from another world?”

“No! We’re from Earth!” Jeremy protested. She smiled further. “What?”

“Yes, he mentioned that he’d briefly gone to a place named Earth and had managed to return home to study what had happened, and that if he ever went anywhere again, he would visit Earth again as it had the friendliest environment of the few places he’d traveled to. I thought it was a bunch of hooey and all the time spent practicing his psychic powers with his Pokémon had made his brain snap a bit.” Troya stood and put her empty glass in the sink. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some cake?”

“No. Wait. So. We’re on a totally different planet.” James tried to comprehend this. “And the only way of getting back is known by the Stig. Who is not on this planet. Is there any way we could talk to someone who could help us out more? Not that you’ve not been helpful. You’ve definitely explained a bit more clearly what’s going on. I think.”

Troya nodded. “I guess I could take you to Professor Oak. He’s the only one who seems to know anything about this besides the Stig.”She took their glasses and put them in the sink and then led them to a large building. As they entered, they took in the laboratory, full of very scientist-y looking things that none of them dared even breathe near lest they break it.

At the very back of the building was an elderly man typing away information from a notebook into a computer. Standing next to him was what looked like a blue bulb with feet and leaves sprouting from the top. It turned around and said curiously, “Oddish?”

The man stood and turned around. “Ahh, Troya,” he smiled. “What brings you here? And are these friends of yours?”

“Hi, Professor,” she smiled. “I… was actually hoping you could help us out. See, I saw these men near my ranch fighting against a bunch of Rattata and I wanted to make sure that they were okay. Turns out, they have no clue where they’re at and they know the Stig. You following me?”

Professor Oak raised his eyebrows. “Not really, actually. Would you care to elaborate? Sometimes I have no clue where I’m at thanks to my brain starting to go.”

Troya let out a tired, annoyed sigh. “What I’m saying, Professor, is that they’re not from this world.” She glanced at James. “And apparently these three men are very, very confused. They don’t know what Pokémon are and I was hoping you could try to explain it better than I can.”

Professor Oak’s eyes widened. “Oh, oh my!” He dropped the notebook he was holding onto the plant creature’s head and it yelped in outrage. “Oddish!” The creature gave a cry and Professor Oak scooped it up, patting its head gently. “I’m sorry, Oddish,” he spent a minute coddling the creature until it calmed down and then placed it back on the ground, where it began to wander around the lab curiously.

“Well, I guess the best place to explain is that you’re in a town called Pallet Town in the land of Kanto. This is a world where many different types of creatures like the ones you faced earlier, the Oddish you saw, and all sorts of others exist. For example, Troya has a Ponyta and a Dratini that she bought from earning enough coins in Celadon City.”

“Troya mentioned a Ponyta earlier?” Richard asked weakly. That name sounded somewhat normal. Pony, right? A nice, cute pony.

Troya grabbed one of the balls that were attached to her belt and tossed it into the air. It split open and the white light began to form the shape of an equine. However, when it materialised, Richard’s jaw dropped. It was a beautiful cream-coloured equine, but replaced its mane and tail, along with several jets of fire that streamed along near the underside of its belly on all four legs.

“That’s … no regular pony.” James said. Troya put her hand on Ponyta’s withers and patted it gently. It whickered at her and nuzzled behind her ear, and although the flames touched her, she did not flinch away. Richard reached out to touch the creature, which snorted at him, pinned its ears back, and the flames flared up angrily.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She doesn’t know you very well, and she’s likely to burn you. Nope, this is Storm. She’s only a year old, so no racing for her yet. I’d prefer if she didn’t – I think when I start my Pokémon adventure I’ll use take her and Dratini.”

“Dratini?” James asked, almost regretting the words as they left his mouth. She clicked on the button of another one of the balls and he asked, “What is that?”

“This? Oh, right. This is a Pokéball.” She smiled at them. When she released the Pokéball, what formed as a blue snakelike creature almost six feet long. It curled up around itself and stared at them. “This is Dratini.” It had an innocent face as it watched them. It peeked out from around Troya and hid again. “It’s a naturally shy Pokémon,” she said, and ran her hand along its neck. It gave a purring noise and then disappeared back into its Pokéball at her request.

“Ah…” Richard began. “So, what… do we have?”

“Oh! I almost forgot! Professor, can you heal their Pokémon? The Rattata really wore them out!” Troya reached over and took the three Pokéballs from the men and handed them to Professor Oak who placed them on a table underneath several rays of light.

“It’ll take only a few minutes – I’ve come up with a new device that takes the healing properties of a Chansey and focuses them into a beam of light, as such. Once it enters the Pokéball, the circular factor allows it to reveberate throughout and intensify even more.”

Troya raised her eyebrows. “Wow, that’s impressive! That’s going to be a major invention for people in need of a fast heal for their Pokémon!” This was still very much over any of the heads of the three men.

Richard pulled James and Jeremy aside. “Right. So, what do we do? I mean, we need to get out of here, so how?”

James reached for his mobile. “Maybe we can get ahold of the Stig this way?” But even as he pulled it out of his pocket, he saw that they were getting no reception. He wasn’t surprised. He glanced at Jeremy and shook his head. “I’ve got nothing, then.”

“Well, if he could get us here, then clearly he’s refined how to do this where he doesn’t need his … Pokémon…” the word sounded strange falling from Richard’s mouth, “to help him. And I guess that means he can control it. So if we can get ahold of him, maybe he’ll bring us back.”

“But we have no way of getting ahold of him. Nobody else knows how to open the portal. So, we’re essentially stuck here.” James reminded Richard.

Richard paused. “What if time is different here? I mean, you read all those stories and watch all those movies where a day on Earth is like, a hundred years on another planet. What a day here is like century on Earth?”

“I doubt the Stig would do something that drastic. And if he had gotten to Earth and come back before, he could have figured out the time difference if there was one, and been able to figure it out for when he went back.”

“How do you think he managed to figure it out?” Jeremy interrupted.

Troya was standing off to the side and had been listening. She bit her lip and then approached them. “There’s a mountain that supposedly contains a water within that allows a Pokémon and its trainer to spiritually become one if they bathe in it, drink it, train beneath the waterfall, and essentially remain within it for a day.”

“Hey, James, it’s a Smart Car!” Richard proclaimed. “And, you don’t even need wee bags if you have to go!”

James snorted. “Do not bring that up, Hammond. I never want to experience that, talk about it, or even remember that if possible.” Jeremy was quietly snerking into his hand, having heard about it and decided to take the piss whenever possible out of James and Richard.

A moment later, Troya returns with the three Pokéballs for them. “Hey, here you guys go. If you want, I’m going to run home and try to see if I can start my journey today. And maybe you guys can come along for now? I mean, it might take a really long time to figure out how to get you home, and at least you could have an adventure while you waited?”

Her light brown eyes shone brightly and before they could speak, she had dashed off through the lab and was outside rushing home.

Richard bit his lip. “We’ve got nothing else to do. We’ve finished filming, and season eleven isn’t going to premiere for a few more months. And like James said, we are sort of stuck here. Besides…” He let his Pokéball open and looked at the fox-creature that was there. “It’s kind of cute. Maybe we can make the best of it while we’re here.”

His Pokémon looked up at him and then sprang from a sitting position, surprisingly nimble, and he caught it in surprise. “Oof!” he grunted. “Surprisingly heavy.” It sat in his arms contentedly, curled up around itself, and let out a sleepy, incredibly cute yawn before going to sleep.

“Ah, hello.” The professor had made his way over. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself formally. I’m Professor Oak, and I’m a Pokémon researcher. I’ve studied Pokémon all my life and found out some incredible things about them. One of them is the CHM, or the Chansey Healing Machine which I’ve shown you already. This is another.”

He handed them each three red devices, almost shaped like Jame’s mobile phone but more flattened. “This is a Pokédex. It records data on Pokémon you’ve caught or seen, and can give you information on Pokémon as well. Give it a try!”

He sounded so boyish that Richard hated to disappoint him and tapped at the little machine carefully. He located the power button and it lit up with a little ping of noise. “How do I use it?” He asked.

“Just point it at a Pokémon or an item that you come across and want to learn more about.”

Just for the hell of it, Richard pointed the Pokédex at the Professor. “Professor Oak,” the machine intoned in a robotic drone. “A famous Pokémon researcher. He has found out many secrets about Pokémon that were unknown until the last few decades. Considered perhaps the best Pokémon researcher of all time.”

Oak’s cheeks were as red as the Pokédex by the time it finished talking. “Try something else. Your Vulpix, perhaps,” and Richard tipped the Pokédex down. “Vulpix, the fox Pokémon. This Pokémon has only one white tail at its birth which splits and turns reddish-brown as it ages. Every night, Vulpix releaseas a flame from its mouth to release the internal heat from the fire within it.”

James gaped at the machine. “Fire?”

As if on cue, the Vulpix yawned again and a little jet of fire shot from its mouth. “Vuuuuul…” it murmured as it fell back asleep.

“What…” Jeremy stammered out. “What in hell is mine then?” He released his creature from the Pokéball, and it stood there, chirping and clinging to his leg. “And why is it so intent on me?”

“Pri-pri-priii!” it squeaked contentedly as it gazed at him with adoring eyes.

“Togepi. The spike-ball Pokémon. Its shell is considered to be filled with joy that it will bestow upon those who treat it kindly. Upon birth, the first creature it sees it will consider its mother.” Jeremy looked at the Pokémon.

“But. I can’t be the first thing it sees. It didn’t hatch in front of me…”

Professor Oak broke in. “No, but, if what I think the Stig did is correct, then he managed to give the Pokémon to you where it had no previous history with a parent. Of course, that’s implying that the Stig is what I think he is.”

Richard almost hated to ask. “What do you … think the Stig is?”

“I think,” the Professor began, “that he did manage to find a way to link himself with his Pokémon – but more than you would imagine. I think that somehow, he managed to transfer himself and his Pokémon into the same body, to share powers and lives. I know Bill, another famous researcher, did that once by accident. Of course, that was with a transfer machine, not something he ever meant to do.”

James wasn’t sure how to comprehend it. “So, the Stig… he could be like one of these?” He looked at Togepi, at Vulpix, and then let his own Pokémon out. “Eevee!” It cried. He assumed that was its name, and picked it up. Its little pink tongue emerged to lick his nose warmly and then sit down in his arms, fluffy tail wrapping around itself.

“Ah, you have an Eevee. A good starting choice for beginning trainers. Much easier to handle than a Vulpix or a Togepi.” Professor Oak stated, as if barely paying attention to what James had just said. “And, you have the choice of seven different evolutions for it.”

“E…evolutions?” James asked. His head swam with all this new information. As if on cue, the Pokédex began to speak.

“If a Pokémon has gained enough power and skill, it will evolve into its next level on the evolutionary chain. Also, Pokémon may evolve from a certain amount of happiness, by different stones, or by trading them. Then, James watched as a picture of a chubby, yellow duck-like Pokémon changed into a much sleeker, blue Pokémon.

Jeremy finally managed to get what they were all thinking into words. “This is a bit much – you wouldn’t happen to have some tea, would you?”

The professor did have tea, and offered them some outside his lab so that they didn’t risk spilling it. “Would you like to learn how to battle?”

“Whu-huh?” James splurted a mouthful of his tea back into the cup, coughing. “Us? We don’t want to fight! We just want to get back home. Well, maybe I’d like to kill him,” he pointed at Richard, “for landing us here. But that’s about it.”

The Professor laughed, albeit a bit nervously. “Yes. Well. No, I mean your Pokémon. Many trainers engage in battles together to increase their Pokémon’s strength so they can try to become Pokémon champions. Watch, I’ll have my Charmeleon battle my Seaking,” and he tossed two Pokéballs from his belt.

Emerging forth was a dinosaur-like creature. “Chaaaarrrr,” it breathed viciously. All three men took a step backwards as it turned its head towards them, narrowed its eyes, and breathed out a huff of firey breath.

In stark opposition, the Seaking flopped around in a nearby pond, a big fish similar to a German Carp. It looked somewhat defenseless, save for the large horn on its head.

“Alright, guys. Just a little practice battle. Nothing too extreme, okay, Charmeleon?” Professor Oak seemed a little nervous. “Use Flamethrowing on Seaking. Seaking, counter with Waterfall!”

The Charmeleon roared and released a jet of fire so thick and so powerful that the heat radiating off of it caused sweat to appear immediately on James’ forehead. But the Seaking began to swim quickly towards the Charmeleon as the fire approached and a crest of water formed around it that it rode on top of before crashing over the Charmeleon and nearly splashing the four men watching.

With a cough, the Charmeleon stood weakly and then stumbled dizzily. “Chaaar….” It breathed again, although much less mightily. As it fought to keep its balance, Oak said, “Seaking, while he’s down, finish him off!”

The Seaking leapt forward and slammed its horn into the Charmeleon’s own forehead. Immediately, the Charmeleon collapsed and lay there. As Professor Oak recalled each Pokémon, he smiled. “And that’s that.”

“That was brutal.” Richard said. He gaped. James looked down at the fox he held. “Can yours do that?”

“Probably not yet. By the looks of it, this Vulpix is still young. See how fairly straight her tails are? By the time she’s fully grown, they’ll be curled up around themselves.” Professor Oak broke in.

Jeremy looked at Togepi, which was still by his side, clinging in fear from the battle. He picked it up cautiously and stared at it. It danced on tiny feet until he poked it with a finger and it landed on its rear. It began to whimper and he groaned. “Does it do anything but make chirp noises and cry?”

“Well… it is a baby,” Professor Oak said. “Although you might want to watch out for Metronome. That can be a doozy of an attack. Mostly because you never know what you’re going to get!”

Just then, they heard shouting from the distance. Troya was running towards them with a bag over her shoulders. She skidded to a halt in front of them, panting heavily. “My mom said she doesn’t mind if I leave a day early!”

“That’s wonderful, Troya. I know how long you’ve been waiting to start your journey,” the professor said as he patted her shoulders. “Come inside, all of you, and I’ll give you some things to get you started.”

Once they were inside, he led them to a small room where he handed them all some bags emblazoned with a Pokéball mark on it. “Here, store some things that you find in here. I’ve started giving these out to first-time trainers so they have something on them in case their Pokémon gets sick or injured. There’s five Pokéballs, two potions, two antidotes, and two full heals. Which, if you’re curious,” he glanced at the men, “the potions will heal them quickly if they’re low on energy, the antidotes cure them if they get poisoned, and the full heals will fix them if an attack paralyses them, freezes them, burns them, or puts them to sleep, along with being poisoned. But it won’t raise their energy, that will remain the same.”

“Ah… huh.” James said. He glanced at his Eevee. “So, how do we know what they can do in a fight?”

“Well, if you look up Eevee’s attacks, it will tell you what attacks Eevee can learn. However, if your Eevee doesn’t have enough experience, it won’t be able to fight. Oh, and when you fight, you’ll earn money if you win. So you can buy some new clothes,” he said. James looked down and realised his were covered in dust and dirt from when he’d awoken lying on the ground.

“So, are you ready to go?” Troya asked. “We can head to the nearest city, Viridian City.” She smiled at them and although they were confused, James felt a sort of strange glee building up inside of him. This was completely mad, but it was the three of them together so they would figure it out in the end, and really, there was a hell of a lot that could go wrong but for now, they would just have to take it as they went.

“I guess,” he smiled. He glanced at Richard, who was gently stroking his Vulpix’s tails and eliciting little mewing noises from it. “Jezzer?”

Jeremy sighed. “I suppose. Are you sure we can’t talk to the Stig? Or maybe I can take that Charmeleon with me? It’s awful … fiery.”

Professor Oak and Troya gave a little nervous giggle. Professor Oak shook his head. “Ah, maybe you’d best stick to Togepi for now if you don’t want to get broiled alive by the end of the night. Don’t underestimate it either, it’s a powerful little thing.”

Jeremy frowned. "Right. Well. Let's get on our way then." The three men fell in line behind Troya as they began to walk. "I really am going to kill you, Hammond, when we get home."

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 16:11:15 GMT

Title: A Mild Proposition (3/3)
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: James/Richard
Summary: Richard and James continue to dance around their feelings for each other, but eventually something will have to give.
Notes: I swear, they will stop being angsty, eventually. ALSO – I AM A GIANT SAP AS YOU CAN TELL FROM THE ENDING.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.

When Richard wakes up the next day, James is still halfway on top of him, face tucked against Richard’s. Richard stretches as best he can, but doesn’t want to wake James. Instead, he looks at James out of the corner of his eye, turns his face to stare at him directly.

James looks a bit like hell when he wakes up, most of his hair having flipped to one side and tangled itself, but he is not drooling on Richard, and that’s an improvement on Jeremy as a sleep partner.

Richard contemplates things. He is attracted to James. He wants to kiss James, and very likely wouldn’t mind shagging him. He’s got a great deal of affection for James, if he’s willing to admit it.

James yawns in his sleep, and his fingers, which are resting on Richard’s hip, tighten. Richard moves his own hand to cover, lace their fingers, and closes his eyes. Okay, here’s the real question – do you want to wake up to this? Is this attraction to him sexual, or is it something like a relationship?

He presses his forehead to James, inhales the scent of fading cologne, sweat, the slightly sour scent of beer on James’ breath, but most of all, he smells the James scent, and he feels James’ skin against his, listens to the slow, steady breathing coming from James, the very faint snoring, and he shivers. Yes, he does want that. He wants to wake up to this – and he’s not so terrified anymore.

He’s not so terrified as to what he wants, because he has just realised and come to the conclusion that he is falling for his best mate, well, one of them. Falling for Clarkson would be slightly worrying. But he is almost sure he is falling for James. And in the end, does it really matter that James isn’t some pretty bird that he met at a bar, or while waiting to see a film? Does it matter that James is his best friend, his male best friend, and his co-worker? Well, only the last thing, if things go terribly wrong.

But really, he’s not sure he cares anymore that being with James would mean he was… what, bisexual? All the cool kids are doing it, anyways. He chuckles at that thought and hears James hum.

“What’re you laughing at, you nutter?”

Richard opens his eyes to see James smiling at him. “You looked like you were enjoying a good dream, until you started laughing.” James tells him. He frees his hand from Richard’s to push his hair back and then puts his hand back down, propping himself up on his elbow. “So, what were you thinking?”

Richard fiddles with his thumb, bites his lip. “Not sure I want to tell you right now.”

“We are not getting pissed tonight.” James informs him. “Even if that seems to lead to us in bed.” Richard rolls onto his back and James tickles Richard’s stomach, making him twist and arch upwards, laughing loudly, belly laughter that shakes him all over.

“So,” James says softly as he lets Richard relax back into the bed. “We were having an interesting… discussion… last night and you fell asleep on me.” Richard flushes under his gaze, which he never would have expected from Captain Slow, except maybe there’s a flip side. There’s Captain Slow, who is sluggish and almost seems lazy, but then there’s Captain Slow, a deliberate side, one that may be slow but is also straight to the point.

And James is certainly getting straight to the point, moving close to Richard’s neck, placing very light kisses to his throat, palm flat on Richard’s thigh and moving up, up, to rub over his hipbone. Richard, out of curiosity, does the same. James has surprisingly prominent hipbones, and he curls up around himself so he can get to James’ hips, tug down James’ jeans and boxers, just enough to reveal the fine trail of hair down his stomach and beneath the edge of his jeans.

Richard lets his tongue trail over the raised line of James’ hip and realises that he can see the head of James’ erection just peeking out from beneath denim and pauses, brain racing. Well. There you have it. Maybe you should do something about it. This would be interesting. I mean, yes, you’ve come to accept that you’re quite attracted to him, but this would be James’ penis in your mouth. That would be new and slightly different.

Before he can think any further, he almost savagely pushes out the button on James’ jeans, shoves them down, and releases – Oh, lord. James wasn’t lying. He is … large. Wow. Well. Not abnormally large. But large.

“Uhm.” Richard says, staring up at James. He is staring up at his co-presenter with his mouth about an inch away from said co-presenter’s cock, and there is just something to be said about this. Uhm is not the word, but it’s about as close as he can get.

“D’you… want me to?” Richard asks, and his voice sounds like a shy little child. Seriously uncool. James blinks at him, looking like he’s still half-asleep except he’s not half-asleep, he can’t be half-asleep, he’s got to be as wide-awake as Richard is.

James nods, and Richard takes in a deep breath, leans forward, closes his eyes, and slides the head of James’ cock into his mouth. There is an instant reaction, a low inhalation of breath and a slight push of his hips forward, pushing further into Richard’s mouth.

It’s odd for about two seconds, and then not odd and he opens his eyes, looks up at James, and sees the dazed expression on his face. “I didn’t think you actually were going to.” James breathes out. Richard bobs his head slowly, and doesn’t take his eyes from James’.

He gets into a more comfortable position, instead of being hunched up over himself, moving so that he’s got one arm on either side of James’ legs and is stretched out along the bed. James’ fingers clench the sheets and then he reaches forward to thread his fingers through Richard’s hair. It is somehow so erotic to Richard, that he’s getting this kind of response from James, that he almost feels like he should make this even better.

He slides his mouth further down, almost completely enveloping James, and suddenly James gives a little gasp. Richard pulls back in worry, because that was a surprised sound, not necessarily a pleasured one. James, however, shakes his head. “No, no. Don’t stop, Richard.” His voice is shaking. “You just… your teeth scratched a little, but it felt good. Different – good.”

Richard hums slightly and starts a faster pace, watching the big muscles of James’ thighs flexing. James arches up again and again, harder and harder, and Richard struggles to breathe through his nose. This is a new experience and he thinks he’s doing rather well. James seems to be in agreement, if the soft gasps and low moans that are almost whines coming from his throat seem to be any indication.

And then James thrusts hard, groans loudly, and there is a bitter, salty, sharp taste in Richard’s mouth, covering his tongue but he takes it as best he can, swallows it down, and then moves up to look at James. “Hi,” he says. James touches his cheek with two fingers before leaning forward to kiss Richard.

“Hi.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

There is a very, very long silence. Finally James speaks. “Oh.” Richard quickly glances at James and sees a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, I’m not sure I can say the same – but I’m flattered, if that means anything.”

“Breakfast?” Richard asks weakly, getting out of bed. James doesn’t move, stays where he is, staring at the ceiling, and Richard has relieved his bladder, washed his hands, brushed his teeth, returned to the bedroom, and James is still there.

“I think I’m going to go, actually. I’m not upset, Hamster, don’t worry.” James is up and about, moving to squeeze Richard’s shoulder, and now that Richard has admitted to himself that he’s rather far gone on James, that touch is electric and something that he can’t have apparently. “I’ll see you in the studio soon, alright?”

Richard pulls James into a tight hug before James can escape, and James wraps his arms around Richard and rubs the nape of Richard’s neck. “Yeah, yeah,” James mutters. “You have a good day, okay? I’ll call you tonight.”

Richard watches James leave with a heavy feeling in his stomach. He really, really hopes that he hasn’t completely ruined their friendship and that his dream isn’t going to come true.

Well, first, he’ll have to learn French and that’s not close to happening yet. He sits back on the bed. He’s not going to even bother trying to ‘get over’ James, because he’s never had very much luck doing that with anyone he’s liked. He’ll just try to not bring it up again. Ever.

But that’s easier said than done. James doesn’t call him that night, and Richard doesn’t mind too much. He figures that James got busy. But he doesn’t hear from James at all for the next two nights either, and when he finally does, it’s a quick call just to let him know that Jeremy wants to go out drinking, but he’s not particularly in a mood to do so, and is Richard? The answer is no.

The week goes by and he and James see each other, interact, smile, are in general, two of the three Top Gear presenters, but things seem off between them. Even Jeremy notices it. He pulls Richard aside one day. “What’s up between the two of you?”

Richard shrugs. “Nothing. I guess we’re just off this week. I’m sure we’ll be back to normal soon enough.” He walks off quickly, doesn’t want to continue the topic any more than he has to.

James looks at him a lot, and Richard wishes he could understand what the other man is thinking. He tries to broach the topic a few times and gets James nodding briskly, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, we’re fine.”

James opens the door to his home, enters, shuts the door behind him. He’s just left the pub with Jeremy, Richard having turned down the invitation. He’d had two beers at the beginning of the night and then stopped, because he just wasn’t enjoying himself. He’d spent another thirty or forty minutes socialising with Jeremy, and then left.

In all honesty, he’d spent most of the night thinking about Richard, about what happened between them. Jeremy actually asked what he was thinking about and James had almost mumbled out, “Getting blown by Richard.”

That was a close call.

He sits on his couch, looks for something to watch on the telly, and finds nothing. He needs to think about things. He thinks about Richard, hunkered down at the edge of the bed, his mouth warm and slick. He thinks about kissing Richard and how Richard’s mouth seems to match up with his perfectly and how he reacts to being kissed right under his throat, by his collar.

This doesn’t make him gay, right? This makes him strangely interested in Richard, who eats cardboard and Richard, who is a bit hyper, and he’s pretty sure that he’s interested in Richard who is one of the few people who can make him laugh until it hurts, grin until he thinks his cheeks are going to break.

When Richard said he was falling for him, James panicked a bit on the inside. He had every right to, anyways. After all, only a few days before, Richard had been just … Richard. And now he was Richard who James would willingly let crawl into his bed and kiss him. A lot.

And maybe that’s what’s supposed to happen. Situations keep leading to this sort of thing, and they keep rushing away from them once it gets too heated, but everything about Richard seems to be indicating he wants to, and James has to admit that he’s willing to see what happens. He knows that he’s still lying to himself about how he feels, and he’s not ready to admit it just yet.

He can’t believe he’s about to do this, but he gets on the internet and begins to browse sites. First, he goes to google. “Ways to tell that you’re a homosexual”. No, that won’t do. “Flaming queer” isn’t much better.

Right. “Gay sex”. Aaaaand he’s clarifying that to “How to have anal sex”, because porn sites aren’t what he wants. Alright, “A Beginner’s Guide To Anal Sex”. He’s had anal sex a few times, with women, but h just went about it and he’s not sure they enjoyed it, and he wants, if they’re going to be doing this, to enjoy or to have Richard enjoy it.

He realises that he is, in fact, researching how to give and receive anal sex and clicks away. He is not going to go there. Maybe if they just enjoy kissing and maybe he and Richard can occasionally engage in oral sex like a few days previously.

Come on, May, you arse. Richard actually got down on his hands and knees and blew you, and you know he was half-scared witless about it, and you can’t even bring yourself to look at how to go about gay sex? Don’t you think you at least owe him the thought of it, since he was kind enough to do something to you?

He’s entered a sort of surreal state, seeing as he’s talking to himself about anal sex and being gay and Richard Hammond in bed with his mouth around his cock and things he never expected to think about.

He reopens the page, reads through it. When he sees the phrase “Get to know your butt”, he almost shuts off the computer and goes for a stiff drink. Eventually, he manages to at least calm his brain down enough to - rimming.

There’s a section dedicated to rimming.

After James has read through four different sites with much similar advice, he has come to the conclusion of several things. If he is, in fact, going to sleep with Richard, he will need to get lube. He has condoms. He doesn’t have anything to put Richard at risk, and he’s almost positive that Richard doesn’t either, but for the time being, he plans on using a condom if something like this is going to happen. And he needs to …

He needs to talk with Richard about this.

Richard grabs his mobile as soon as it rings, sees the number, and flips it open before it’s even begun the second ring. “Hello?” He asks, perhaps a bit too breathlessly.

“Ah…hello,” James says. He sounds a bit surprised that Richard has answered so quickly. “Were you waiting for me to call you?”

Richard leans back against the chair. “No, not really. But I was just … well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I’m sorry that I dropped that kind of information on you, and started this situation between us –“

“Could you shut up a minute and let me in? It’s rather cold out right now.” James sounds a bit anxious himself. Richard stands and heads for the door quickly.

“You’re outside? What the hell are you doing outside?” Richard asks, even as he opens the door to see James standing there with a bag in his hand. “And what do you have in the bag?” He tries to peek as he hangs up, but James snatches it away.

“We need to talk.” James says. He walks in and heads to put the bag down on the living room table, sitting on the couch. “First things first, do you like raspberries or strawberries more?”

Richard furrows his brow. “Do I like raspberries or strawber-what kind of question is that?” James doesn’t respond, just looks around the room casually, but he can see the way that James taps his fingers against his kneecap, indicating that he’s nervous about the answer. “Uh, I guess I like both, but I prefer strawberries?”

James nods. “Good.” He gets up. “Are you mad at me?” Crossing the room, he stands in front of Richard, and Richard notices that he’s dressed up. Not a lot – but he’s wearing nice jeans that are pressed and a white dress shirt, collar down, buttons done up, and hair brushed straight instead of tangles surrounding his face. He looks attractive. And he smells nicer than usual.

“I’m not mad at you at all. I’m worried that I screwed up our friendship, and I wish I had never said anything because your friendship means more to me than, well, whatever else that was that went so very wrong.” Richard again tries to sneak a glance into the bag and again is shooed away by James, who instead goes to the kitchen, grabbing Richard’s wrist and taking him with.

“Later. You can look later. We’re talking now.” James tells him. “It means a lot to me too, our friendship. Is it really something that you’d take over seeing what would have happened had we kept up ‘whatever else that was’, as you’ve put it?” James peruses his face as he waits for an answer, and Richard worries that he’s going to let the man down somehow.

“I guess so. I don’t want to end up having you hate me.” Richard mutters, gets a glass of water, sips it. He isn’t thirsty but he needs to do something besides stand in front of James feeling naked and like he’s made a grave mistake.

James shakes his head slowly. “Hamster, you’re a bigger idiot than I originally ever thought you were. Do you think I could ever hate you?” He is smiling, a sort of relieved smile, and Richard doesn’t understand this at all.

“Why did you ask me about strawberries?” Richard answers. James ignores the question and waits for Richard to answer. There is a pregnant pause and then James gives in first.

“I never thanked you for the other morning.” He says. He moves closer. “I did a lot of thinking, and a lot of research, and read a few phrases that I never want to read again. And if this goes all wrong, I’ll take the blame.” He catches Richard’s jaw with his fingers, traces along it. “And if not, I’ll thank you again,” he says, very calmly.

Richard breathes in as James kisses him, his eyes fall shut and he wraps his arms around the other man. The kiss is slow and tender and far less desperate than any of their other kisses, and it sends little shivers all through him. The kiss is a James kiss, the flip side of Captain Slow, deliberate and straight to the point and absolutely fucking delicious.

And James is kissing his neck, doing something to his earlobe that makes Richard give a small noise of want, pressing Richard into the counter, and when did Richard get his fingers tangled up in James’ hair as he tilts his head to the side to let James have better access to the little pulse point in his throat, to kiss and nip and lick there?

“What…” he mumbles out finally. James pulls back and looks at him, and leaves the room only to return with the bag. When Richard is handed it, he looks through it. A box of condoms, a box of mints, and … “Why in bloody hell is there a bottle of raspberry lube in this bag?”

“The mints are for you – a sort of peace offering for the way I’ve been avoiding you, although I might steal one in the morning to get rid of any morning breath. That’s if you want me to stay.” James lifts the lube. “And as for the other two things, I should hope they’d be pretty obvious.”

Richard’s stomach drops, and his brain sputters out and dies. “I.” Not so intelligent.

“You.” James answers, intelligently. “And me.”

“I… yes?” Richard cannot believe how stupid he sounds, and James is starting to laugh at him, but that’s alright, because James is also kissing him again, little kisses even as he’s laughing that have hot air gusting into Richard’s mouth in little puffs until he’s laughing too. “This is fucking mad.” He manages to squeak out and James only laughs harder, until the two of them are almost in tears and Richard’s stomach hurts and he needs to break away to breathe or else he pass out.

“So?” James glances at the bedroom. “We can take this slow, as slow as you want, and we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I mean, I guess I’m ready for whatever you want to do.”

“We never answered who’d be the one to…” Richard pauses, fumbles.

“Who’d be the dominant one?” James supplies. “You can, if you’d like. Or I can. Or, like I said, we don’t have to tonight. Or until we’re ready.”

“Since when did you get so bloody knowledgeable about all this?” Richard demands to know, even as James pushes him gently in the direction of the bedroom.

“The internet, Richard. You should try it out. Real interesting things. Those phrases I told you about? Perhaps the most memorable one was ‘Get to know your butt’.” Richard starts laughing in disbelief. “No, really. I had this mental image of being all curled up trying to speak to my buttocks and having it respond.”

“Thank you for putting that into my head, I’d thank you to somehow remove it again – ah.” Richard lets out a sigh as James closes the door behind them and trails his finger along the vein of Richard’s wrist before kissing Richard again.

And then, there is nothing but slow, long, sweet kisses as James gently moves Richard from a sitting position to one leaning back against the pillows, and Richard pulls James closer to him, to lay alongside him, and it’s absolutely fucking perfect.

“How were you thinking about thanking me for, uhm, the other day?” Richard asks quietly when they separate and lie there, talking about nothing.

James tugs off Richard’s shirt, and Richard rolls onto his back as James undoes Richard’s trousers as well, slides those off. “Are you comfortable with this?” James asks. Richard closes his eyes.

“I’m lying naked in front of you and I have a feeling you’re about to do something to me that I was never expecting you to do. I’m still a bit in shock here, but yes, I guess I’m comfortable enough with this.” Richard hears James’ snort of amusement. “What, you try it and tell me how it feels being bare-arsed in front of me!”

There is the rustling of clothing, the sound of a zipper being undone, and Richard opens his eyes to see James in front of him, exactly as Richard has demanded him to be. James purses his lips, looks around the room, back at Richard, and sits on Richard’s kneecaps.

“Alright. I’m naked in front of you. I’m a bit chilly – you should keep your place warmer. But I see nothing too unnerving about this. I’m more nervous about this,” and he leans forward, lets the tip of his tongue run down Richard’s chest to his stomach, swirls a circle there, and kisses it, before continuing lower.

“Oh-nngh.” Richard manages to get out, quite coherently, he would like to believe.

“Mm-hmm,” James agrees from around Richard’s penis. “Hm. Mm?”

“Nnngh.” Richard responds. After that, the only sounds that he hears are his own, hard breathing and the squeaking of the bed, and occasionally the wet sound of James’ mouth sliding up and down his cock, and then the sudden disappointment of James pulling away. “What-“

James kisses him before he can protest, cradles his jaw and whispers softly to him. “D’you want to try it?” Richard knows what he’s referring to, and a million thoughts enter his brain to be replaced by one single word.

“Yes,” he breathes back, and brings James to him. “I guess… well, I guess I trust you to be the dominant one.” The words leave his mouth only half-realised and he watches James’ eyes widen.

“I was really expecting it to be the other way around,” James tells him. “You sure, Richard?”

“Don’t ask me again, or I’ll take off running for the hills. And I’m naked, and it’s cold out.” Richard replies. “Yes, I’m sure. If you make me think about this, I’ll get all confused, just like I have been before about us.”

James reaches for the box of condoms, opens it, slides out a purple foil package, and rips it open carefully, then moves back. Richard stares at the ceiling, trying to calm himself down. This is happening, this is really happening, is it going to hurt, oh god, this is really fucking happening, I-

“This is going to sound very technical, but you know me, and I don’t think you would have expected anything less from me,” James says in his ear. Richard has to smile. That much is true. “I’m not going to do anything until you tell me you’re ready, and until you’re relaxed. I mean, that makes sense, right? Being tense will make it hurt, being relaxed won’t?”

Richard nods. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” He kisses James, and the two of them position themselves until Richard has his legs spread and James is between them, sort of cradling Richard’s head with his hands while leaning on his elbows, and Richard can grip James’ biceps as his legs are pushed upwards slowly, over James’ shoulders.

James doesn’t know how to tell Richard that this is going to be fine, and tomorrow they’ll be fine, and they’ll always be fine, and he wants to have this tomorrow, and maybe always, so he just kisses Richard and begins to push gently forward.

Richard doesn’t make a sound but his mouth widens into a small ‘o’ shape, and James stops, waits until Richard moves his hips slightly, and eventually he’s most of the way inside Richard.

“Fuck, James. I thought you were big the other morning, but oh, fuck, hold on a minute.” Richard growls into his ear, fingers tight around James’ arms. When they relax a little, James asks, “Ready?” and Richard nods.

They go slowly, so slowly that James doesn’t think he can take it at times, but then Richard relaxes further and the unsteady movements of before become more steady, quicker, moving together, and Richard lets out a small moan.

James reaches to stroke Richard’s cock and it only takes a few strokes before Richard is arching upwards and rocking his hips forward against James’ thrusts, eyes squeezed shut as he reaches orgasm. James watches him, enthralled, and moments later is moving just as unsteadily as before, all rhythm lost as he moves fast and quick and comes hard, seeing stars for a moment. Shakily, he pulls back and lets Richard’s legs down, worried that Richard might be sore and asking that immediately. Richard gives him a rather pointed look, which James feels he quite deserves, seeing as it’s the man’s first time having anal sex. Of course he’s sore.

After they have detangled themselves, cleaned up a bit, and James has his chin propped on Richard’s chest, he asks, “Is it a bad sore? Or a good sore?” Richard glances down and gives a chuff of pleasure.

“And you call me an idiot.” Richard answers. “It’s a good sore, I guess. I mean, I enjoyed myself, as is evidence in the towel over there.” He motions at the towel that was used to wipe themselves off afterwards. “But I’m a bit too sore for another round.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m too tired for another round,” James yawns. “I’m an old man.” Richard moves down slightly so that they are face to face.

“Nah, Jeremy’s an old man. You’ll always be middle-aged and cute,” Richard says. “I’ll be the young and beautiful one.”

“My arse,” James exhales as they retangle themselves, arms and legs and fingers all locking up into neat positions. “I’m bringing you with me into middle-agedness.”

“As long as you bring me along,” Richard sighs, and he is content and James smiles, kisses him once more. It’s time to sleep now, but in the morning holds a future that James is looking forward to greeting.

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 16:10:07 GMT

Title: A Mild Proposition(2/?)
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: PG-15
Pairing: James/Richard
Summary: Richard begins to question whether or not a relationship with James is a good idea, and ends up in a situation that may further change their relationship, for better or for worse.
Notes: Set pre-accident for Richard, hence the liquor. :P
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.

Richard's brain stops, his body seems to freeze and go numb simultaneously; he gapes at James like a fish until James reaches out and puts his fingers under Richard's chin and pushes up, closing Richard's mouth. "Fish." He says.

Richard breathes again, and mumbles out, "Right. Erhm. Well, ah, when?" James and he skitter around the real question of "What might happen to our friendship?", and finally Richard growls and stops, gets in front of James. "You know, if we're going to do this, we can't keep dancing around issues."

"Yeah. Well, not tonight. I need to get some stuff done around the house - my fridge has a couple things that I've been avoiding tossing in case I do eat it, except now it's starting to move of its own accord." Richard snerks into his palm, feigning a sneeze.

"Shut up, you tosser," James gives Richard a dry stare. "Or do I have to mention the fork and spoon that were in the back of your car for three months before I finally removed them myself?"

"That's not rotting food!" Richard replies, offended. Jeremy passes the two of them and they hush up, as if simply by being near them he can read their minds about what is going on, the physicality that has started up between them. It makes no sense. "Well, do you want to come over tomorrow or something? I'll order something to eat." His fridge is in a similar state of disarray as James. First thing they will talk about is what has actually brought James to say yes.

"I. Well, since I gave you a ride here, I figure that I should give you one back." James said. "So we can talk a little bit now." Richard nods and follows James to his car, sliding into the seat and playing with the hem of his shirt. James sits next to him, starts the car, and they glance at each other awkwardly.

"If I can ask-"

"Why?" James knows what he's going to say, probably because he's been thinking about it himself. "I'm not sure, really. But - I think it started when you were talking about my philtrum."

"Hm?" Richard stares at his knees, not sure what he's supposed to do. Is he supposed to take James' hand and squeeze it and be all mushy with him? Is he supposed to just be physical and say something like, "I want you now, ooh baby?" This is very new to him.

"You looked so nervous, but so cute. And I've always thought that you had an air of cuteness about you, but I mean, not in a sexual way. Just a very sweet way. And then this morning, y'know, I woke up and you were kissing me, and I figured I'd let you because you seemed to be enjoying it. And it wasn't like anyone was watching, and it was odd, but it was also you, Hamster, and not so weird as some other bloke." James is focusing very intently on the road, and Richard flushes.

"Oh. Well. I mean, were you enjoying it?" Richard fiddles some more with his shirt. James looks at him, starts laughing very quietly, as if trying not to offend Richard with some huge joke at his expense.

"You have this very sweet, very anxious expression right now." James tells him. "I mean, it was early morning, it didn't feel too bad - okay, fine, it felt pretty bloody good, in all honesty, and I mean, I don't know. If I had a clue why I was saying yes, do you think I'd be being quite so verbose?'

Richard bites his lip, offers a half-smile at James.

When James drops him off, although he previously stated that he has something to do, he follows Richard in and when Richard turns around, James is in far closer proximity than Richard was expecting. "Ehm?" Richard asks. "Would you like something to drink?"

He's tried to play it cool, but seeing as he has James' crotch almost pressed against his, cool is going out the window. What is with his body reacting to James so much lately?

"I was thinking - I'm free tonight, if you'd like to try what we did this morning again tonight, I mean, the whole kissing and fooling around and everything. I can come over and if things aren't going well, then we can just go to bed?"

Now it is James who looks fumbling and lovely and Richard shrugs, answers, "Alright, I guess that works." James leans in and kisses him first and Richard catches the back of James' skull, pulling him near and letting out a low breath.

Just as abruptly, they let go, and Richard manages to get out, "Why did you do that?" James rubs his chin, traces his fingers over his lips, and shakes his head.

"It seemed like I should, if we're trying this whole ... I don't even know what it is."

"Do you think that talking about it would sort it out?" James shakes his head. "Why not?"

"Because I've no clue and also because this has only just started and what am I going to figure out? That I'm confused? I already know that, Hamster. I mean, I think I enjoyed that just now. It was odd, yeah, but the more I snog you, the more I like it. That was, what, our third time doing that and I-"

Richard cuts him off. "Right. I understand. Look, you go do what you're going to do. I'll go do what I'm going to do. If you stop by later, we'll see what happens. And if nothing else, I'll have dinner for us."

James leaves soon after and Richard lies down to take a nap - he didn't get enough sleep as night. He falls asleep quickly, but his dreams are terrible.

The studio was oddly quiet, surprisingly. Usually, people were bustling about, trying to prepare for that day's show, and you couldn't find a place to stand without getting shoved out of the way and told, "Somewhere else." But it was empty, except for a couple people wandering in and out of rooms. Richard didn't recognise them, but a badge told him that they were interns. No wonder. Interns could come and go very fast.

He didn't recognise any of the names on the doors either. Since when did a Sid Higbain work there? Or Louis, XV? Okay, now that one had to be wrong. The fifteenth? What kind of family kept naming their family the same name over and over for fifteen generations?

Also, it appeared that all the signs were in French. "Arrêtez, il est interdit de continuer avant de ce point." He read. Well, bloody hell, he didn't know what it meant.

"Bonjour," a gravely voice said. He turned to see Jeremy. "Jer!" He said, pleased to find someone he knew.

"Vous êtes interdit de passer," Jeremy said, pointing at the door. "Mais, Il vous attend. Faites votre choix." Richard stared at him in confusion. What was he saying?

"C'est votre faute." Jeremy continued, shaking his head sadly. "Si vous n'avez pas dit à lui comment vous vous sommes senti, puis nous serions des amis encore." And then he turned and walked away, leaving Richard staring in confusion. He looked at the sign again. Then he opened the door. Maybe someone else would be there and know what was going on.

James was sitting there, sipping on a cup of coffee, a cigarette burning in the ashtray next to him. He was reading a book, "Heart of Darkness", it appeared.

"Hey," Richard said. "Tell me you speak English." James glanced up and over at him. His face clouded darkly and he closed the book.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" He said, sounding angry. "I told you, I never wanted to see your face again. Not after what you did to me. To us," he gestured between them, and past Richard, out the door, and Richard realised he meant Jeremy as well.

"What - what did I do?" Richard asked, confused. He noticed a black cat sitting on a chair that he could have sworn wasn't there before. The black cat eyed him, greenish-gold eyes seeming to gleam, a cold glare.

James snorted. "Vous savez ce que vous avez fait."

"No, no, no! What is with everything here being in French?" Richard cried. "I want to speak English." James picked up the cat, stroked it, and it bumped its head under his chin, still watching Richard.

"Mais, vous ne devez pas parler l'anglais. En parlant l'anglais, vous parlez les mots incorrects. Parlez le français, et vous parlerez les mots corrects." James murmured. His eyes met Richard's, held, and Richard noticed that the anger had been replaced by sadness. "Bon chance, Richard."

Richard stared as James walked past, still holding the cat. It hissed at him. He was left staring at the book on the table. He walked over, opened it, flipped through it. Little notes were written throughout, on symbolism and the corruption of mankind.

He left the room and found himself staring at ... how in the hell had a loo materialised in the center of the hallway? Everything was there, a sink, a shower, a toilet, a mirror on the wall. He looked in the mirror and gaped. Since when did mirrors show people that were NOT you? Was this a reverse vampirism thing?

James was there, with Jeremy. "I'm not sure what to do." James said to Jeremy. "We... well... he snogged me. And I didn't want him to. And I don't think I can face him again. He tried more but I stopped him."

Jeremy nodded, surprisingly calm. "Well, then you don't have to. I'll tell him not to come in here. And I'll make sure that you don't have to see him ever again. It'll mean the end of the show - but it's his fault, anyways."

"Thanks, Jezzer. I knew I could count on you," James said, giving Jeremy a sad, sad smile. "I don't know what else to do."

And then Jeremy was leaving, closing the door, and there was Richard, and that was Jeremy, telling him "Vous êtes interdit de passer."

"Now do you see?" Jeremy's voice, close to his ear. Richard spun around, saw how angry Jeremy looked. "This is all your fault."

Richard awakes with a sharp cry, and finds himself covered in sweat. He's also suddenly scared that he's screwed up his friendship with James, with Jeremy, and that everything's going to be terrible. He needs to talk to James as soon as possible.

He grabs his mobile, starts to dial James' number, and then stops. James will be over late- He glances at the clock. "Oh, fuck!" He moans. How the hell did it get to be so late? It's already 9:32. He meant to call James around 8. He finishes dialing and puts the phone to his ear.

"'Lo?" James sounds bored.

"Sorry I didn't call till now. I fell asleep and only just woke up.” Richard says by way of greeting. James hmms and Richard continues. “Uh, want to come over? I need to talk to you about something.”

James hmms again. Richard takes this as a yes. “Sorry I’m calling so late. I’m guessing you’ve eaten dinner already? I’ll just make something for myself and when you get here, if you want any you can have some.”

“Mm. Well, you do that, and I’ll be over. “ James hangs up, rather abruptly, and Richard looks at the phone as he hangs up, somewhat confused.

He wanders around the kitchen, debates what the fastest thing to cook is, and ends up just making and sandwich, wolfing it down hungrily. He brushes his teeth, changes into something less wrinkled, and stares at himself in the mirror. This time, he sees himself.

“I don’t even bloody know French,” he mutters to himself. He hears a knock at the door and scurries to answer it, seeing James there. Yes, that’s James, one of his two best mates, and he’s not remotely attracted to the man. He can’t be. Doesn’t want to screw up anything between them.

He doesn’t look at James’ mouth, or his philtrum, and definitely doesn’t think about how James was standing in his kitchen earlier with his shirt off, still damp from the shower. He knows he’s not thinking about kissing James the night before, and how James gripped his arms so tight that it almost hurt.

Oh fuck. No, he will talk to James and they will never do that again. “Hey,” he says. His voice is a bit lower than normal, slightly shaky. Oh, fuck.

“Hello,” James says. He looks just as nervous and stiff as Richard feels. “So, what did you eat for dinner?”

“Just a sandwich.” Richard answers. Yes, this conversation is certainly evidence of how he’s bollocksed up their friendship. He sighs. “Look, I think we both know we need to have a bit of a chat about last night and this morning.”

“Right.” James follows him into the kitchen where he takes a seat as Richard moves to begin making tea. Tea always helps to fix things. He leans against the counter and fiddles with his fingernail.

“So, I’m guessing you had a good nap?” James asks, “since you didn’t call until half past nine?” He offers Richard a quirked grin, trying to lighten the mood. However, Richard shakes his head.

“No, actually, the dream was pretty bad. And in French.”

“I didn’t know you knew French.” James raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t!” Richard protests. “I don’t! And that’s why I’m confused. But basically, well. Everything was in French and I had no clue what was going on until I looked into a mirror and saw you and Jeremy and you were talking in English.”

“Generally, mirrors show your own reflection, not someone else. Are you sure it wasn’t a window?” James asks, looking a bit amused now.

Richard gives him a look and says, “I know what both look like and this was a mirror. You were telling Jeremy that I’d kissed you and you hadn’t wanted me to and that you didn’t want to see me ever again,” he watches James’ face soften a bit in understanding, “and I don’t know. Jeremy was telling me something in French and I think he was telling me that I shouldn’t go into the room, and you were in there, and I went in anyways and you told me you never wanted to see me again. Oh, but then you started speaking French too.”

James gets up and crosses the room, standing next to Richard. “And you got upset over this dream? The fact that I was speaking French as well didn’t tip you off to the fact that it wasn’t real?”

Richard sighs. “I’m just afraid that, well, I mean, when I called, you sounded all uncomfortable and I’m just worried that if we do try anything, we won’t be able to be friends and we’ll get all screwed up and then working together will be uncomfortable.”

James pats Richard’s shoulder. “Well, if that’s a problem, we don’t have to do anything. I mean, I’m not sure myself why I said I was interested. Maybe we were both just having a very odd moment and now our brains are catching up to us.”

Richard nods. “That’s probably it.” He finishes making two cups of tea and hands one to James, testing his and wincing as he burns his tongue. “Ow.” He says.

James cradles his cup with both hands, having moved back to the table. “You’re an idiot,” he says affectionately. Richard smiles at him, more at ease. “So, it’s decided that we’re not going to have another snog.”

“What, were you looking forward to one?” Richard asks, startled at the little lurch of … eagerness? in his stomach.
James avoids the question and Richard doesn’t pursue it. “Want to go to the pub? I’ll buy.” James asks instead. “Come on, maybe a drink will take your mind off your extremely odd dream.”

Richard lets James lead him outside to his car and slides in, settling down against the comfortable seat. “Remind me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t having a drink what got this whole situation started in the first place?”

James glances over at him. “Well, yeah, but then, I was the one who said I was interested in your idea, and you’re the one telling me that it’s not a good idea, so, I’m assuming that you’ll be able to keep your rationale and not attempt to jump me.”

Richard laughs nervously. He doesn’t trust himself after last night. Maybe if he only has a beer, rather than several, he’ll be fine. Of course, yesterday, all he wanted to do was kiss James, and play with his hair. And this morning, he wanted to rub himself against James until he came, and now, he wants to drag James into bed and shag him. Right, things are progressing rather interestingly.

The scenery passes by and he focuses on that, a tree, a man jogging with his dog, a car parked at the side of the road, and finally the pub appears. James parks and they head inside, and Richard swears to himself that he will only have one drink, maybe two.

Four beers later, Richard is talking his arse off. Thankfully, it’s about anything but James. “So, do you ever think about what’s going to happen after Top Gear ends? Do you think we’ll still stay good friends, or will we drift apart?”

James sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I think we’ll stay friends. You can’t do this many episodes of the same show with the same persons, go out to a pub as often as we do, and just cock about like we do and then just cut one of those persons out of your life. You’d feel like you’re missing something too much.”

Richard nods, takes a sip of his fourth – no fifth, oh damn – beer. “I don’t want to lose track of you or Jeremy. Maybe we should all just go on to make some show for old men with arthritis, the best comfy cars that don’t go above 40 kilometers per hour and are nice on the haemorrhoids.”

James snerks into his beer, coughing and wiping at the dampness around his mouth. “Jeremy’s getting awful close to that anyways. Give him another, oh, five or six years at best and he’ll be all shaking a cane at anyone who comes too close, ‘Get off my lawn!’ and the such.”

Richard begins to make a weak attempt at a joke about James’ age, but stops. After all, he’s honestly only a few years behind as well. James catches his eye and says, “Well, you look like a movie star. You’ll always be … well, maybe not young and beautiful, but at least only middle-aged and cute.”

Richard rolls his eyes. “And that puts you where?” He puts down his beer – definitely needs to stop drinking because he wants to reach over and take James’ hand and just … hold it, squeeze it, and smile at James because James is for once, not making Richard want to smack him.

James seems to be reading his mind. “We’ve been here almost an hour and a half – why’ve you not told me to bugger off yet?” He crosses his hands behind his head, leans back, gazes at Richard with a sort of smirk on his face.

“Keep that expression up and I will tell you to bugger off,” Richard shoots back, smirking just as well. “Maybe because I know you’re a shite kisser and shouldn’t hurt your feelings even worse.”

James lets out a bark of amusement. “Oh, right, and you’re far better. Your tongue was like a slimy eel trying to invade my throat.” But Richard knows he’s kidding, because of the twinkle that’s come into James’ eye. And ohgod, does he look attractive, with that laugh and that sparkle in his eye, he just looks so good. Richard knows that two days ago, James was just another mate and that if he had been in this exact situation two days ago, he would have been enjoying himself and would have thought that, well, actually, he wouldn’t have been in this situation two days ago because he wouldn’t have kissed James two days ago, and he wouldn’t be thinking how attractive James is.

But the thing is, James is not remotely attractive, in a normal fashion. In a very weird way, he’s attractive. It’s how he looks like someone took a bad 80s hairband in terms of hair fashion, a gay cowboy’s clothing fashion, and added in the heavily lined face of Steven Tyler, and then stuck an overly large nose in the center.

But he’s still attractive, because then you look at him, and it’s a very sweet smile that can have a gently jesting sort of quality to it and the urge to tuck that long hair back from his face, and the way that he can look at you, and really, really see you.

And the fact that he really is a bloody brilliant kisser might have something to do with it, and strong forearms, and a very lovely chest when he walks into one’s kitchen only half-dressed.

Richard becomes very, very aware of his erection. “Ehm, James. I’ll be right back, alright?” He stands, hurries to the toilets, praying that James doesn’t notice his not so little problem. Locking himself into a stall, he leans against the wall. “Oh, fuck all,” he groans. What is going on?

He breathes in and out slowly, tries to ignore the fact that his erection is not going away, mostly because he can’t get his mind off James out there, and James last night, James this morning, and what could be James in his bed again, and he doesn’t even realise it at first, but he’s moving his hand to his jeans, undoing the zip, and reaching inside to pull out his cock, stroking slowly, leaning into the wall, and just thinking of James.

He’s almost ready to come when he realises just what he’s doing, when the surge of adrenaline and urgency sweeps through him, and it jolts him out of his state of bleary-minded need. His breath catches in his throat and he forces himself to stop. He’s not going to get himself off in a pub.

His brain is very addled by the need for sex, by the need for sex from James, or at the very least, for James to be kissing him again. He takes another deep breath, and tries to put his brain together. It doesn’t work very well. Putting himself back together again, he heads back to James. “I think we should get me back to my place, before I drink any more,” he says.

James apparently finished off his drink while Richard was in the loo – for fifteen minutes - and hands Richard the keys to his car. “Alright, I said I’d take you out, so you go get my car and I’ll pay for far too many beers.” Richard watches James disappear into the crowd at the bar, although it has noticeably thinned out, and he realises that it’s already quarter to one in the morning.

When they get back to Richard’s, James pauses as Richard opens the door. “Are we alright?” Richard glances at him.

“This is a really stupid thing to say,” Richard admits, “But I want you to come in.”

James regards him carefully. “Are you sure you want that? Or are you saying this because you’re a bit tippled,” he says with a knowing smile, “and not thinking clearly?”

Richard slides back in the car abruptly and leans over and kisses him, hard, so hard that teeth clack and James gives a muffled protesting noise and then Richard hears the car engine turn off.

“This is definitely related to the alcohol, isn’t it? Two nights in a row?” James mumbles against Richard’s mouth, warm breath sending a thrill down Richard’s spine, and in his stomach, there’s something like frozen lightning churning within, and he can’t help it anymore, he’s too far gone on kissing James again, it makes no sense, but he whispers back, incoherently. “Hm?” James asks, still kissing, suddenly sounding almost as far gone as Richard.

“Come inside.” Richard says, a bit beyond asking and a bit closer to pleading.

“There’s only one problem,” James manages to get out in between frantic kisses, breathing harshly. “How are we getting out without stopping this,” and he cups Richard’s cheeks to accentuate what he means. Richard laughs and accidentally bites James’ lip, leading to his yelp of pain, and them jerking apart. “Well, never mind.” James says, sounding indignant. “If you hated me that much-“

“House. Now.” Richard orders. “We are having another talk, one that is making a lot more sense than what I brought up earlier.”

James slides out of the car, and Richard’s head is reeling as he almost bolts for the door, hand shaking a bit too much to slide the key in the lock at first, and when he gets inside, he heads straight for the kitchen and sticks his head under the sink, hoping it’ll clear his thoughts.

It doesn’t. Now he’s freezing cold, soaking wet with water dribbling down his face, and staring at James in complete embarrassment, and still wants to snog him some more. Well. That was an utter waste of time.

James stares at him, fighting back a grin, and fails. “You’re a complete pillock, you know that, right?”

“Right. Going to change now.” Richard heads for the bedroom, thoughts racing. Is he going to follow me? What happens if he does? Are we going to shag? I sound like a 14 year old boy. Get it together, Hammond. I wonder what he’s thinking right now…

Thankfully, his internal dialogue goes on for so long that he has changed out of his wet shirt and into a dry one, and turns around to see James watching him. “Ah…” He begins, and does not finish.

James is leaning against the door, looking fairly nervous. “I’ve no clue why I was so calm yesterday, because right now, I’m really very confused and surprised and not sure what’s going on or what I should do.”

“Oh, good. That makes two of us. Should we ring Jeremy and ask his opinion?” Richard asks. He sits on the bed, then cautiously pats next to him. “Sit? Talk?”

“Not sure if that’s a good idea, honestly. Seeing as every time I get within a foot of you, I end up snogging you.” James remains where he is, stuffing his hands into his pockets while Richard starts pacing again. James lets out a long, heaving sigh. “Would you knock that off? I told you, if you keep up with the walking in circles again, you’re going to make me sick.”

Richard turns to look at James just as James finishes crossing the room to put his hands on Richard’s shoulders and push him onto the bed. And there they are, with James above Richard, holding him down, Richard sitting and staring up at James, and James retreats quickly.

“No.” Richard murmurs, unintentionally, and James looks at him in surprise. “I mean – oh fuck.”

“What in gods name is going on with us, Hamster?” James doesn’t sit next to him, but he does sit on the floor in front of Richard, and that has to be uncomfortable. Richard doesn’t reply, just shakes his head.

“I have no clue. One day, you’re just James, my co-presenter, and now you’re James, who I’ve become strangely attracted to. Want to explain what you did? Wear some new cologne? Get mind-control powers overnight?” Richard asks.

“I think I’d like to know why I’ve been so inclined to kiss you back and why the idea of kissing you in general is just seeming like something that we should do, like we should have been doing for a while, or something. Because that’s what it feels like. ‘Oh yes, this is Richard Hammond, and we’re on Top Gear together, and we’ve got a very odd relationship because we snog at night. We don’t understand it, but we do it anyways.” James looks annoyed now and Richard falls silent. “I mean, I don’t feel like my masculinity or sexuality is being threatened. I’m not insecure about that. It’s odd, but nothing that is overwhelming. But generally, I’m attracted to women.”

“And I’m not?!” Richard squawks, indignant. His expression must have been incredible because James falls backwards laughing, cracking his head against the wall.

“Ow, you bastard, you made me hit my skull on your stupid wall,” James complains and sits back up, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re just causing me all sorts of injury tonight, aren’t you? Lip biting, skull cracking, what’s next, are you just going to kick me in the bollocks and be done with it?”

Richard doesn’t reply. He can’t. He’s just done thinking. He’s tired, his brain has switched off, and any attempts at figuring out his suddenly wavering sexuality isn’t going to work tonight. “Sorry I bit you,” he says, lying back against the pillows. He stares at the ceiling for a while, then his eyes fall shut. He hears James collect himself as he stands, the weight of James on his bed, next to him.

“Shove over,” James mutters. “Why am I sleeping in your bed again?”

“I’m not sure. Why are you?” Richard asks, already half-asleep, too tired to even care that James is right next to him. He shuffles over a few inches to make room for James, and sleepily reaches over to pat James’ shoulder. “Are we alright?”

“We’re alright.” James says. “Do you think if we just shag and get it done with, we’ll figure out what’s going on?”

Richard pauses. “The thought had not crossed my mind. Maybe? I think at this point, getting any further in figuring out where we are would be an accomplishment. We’re stuck in a rut of, ‘Oh. Ehm. Excuse me, I’m sorry. That is… well, are you alright? Good, uhm. Oh. I’ll go now, shall I?’ and that’s not good.”

“You’re making breakfast in the morning,” James says.

“James?” Richard turns to face him. “Do you want to shag?” He keeps his eyes shut, even though he’s facing James. He’s not sure he can look at the other man right now.

“Do you?” James answers, and Richard peeks open one eye to see James looking just as nervous as Richard feels. Clearly, one of them is going to either have to do something or just leave. Richard takes in a long, deep breath and releases it.

He started this mess, maybe he should try to fix it. Biting his lip, he reaches forward, touches James’ hair. “It’s your fault, y’know. You had to have this long hair.” He tugs at the lock lightly, and James is silent, eyes tracking Richard’s face, not his hand, and Richard leans forward until they are nose to nose.

“It’s your call if we do or not. I guess I’m up for it.” James glances down quickly between them and Richard blushes bright red. “Not like that. Well, I mean, at least not yet.” Richard can’t believe he’s just said that and James looks just as surprised.

“So, are we doing this?” Richard asks.

James’ voice shakes only slightly. “I think we should try it,” he offers as agreement. His lips quirk upwards slightly. “After all, you can’t be as bad at sex as you are at kissing, because you’re shite at that-“

Richard moves in fast, kisses him hard. “Am I, now?” He whispers, fiercely. James swallows in … what? Desire? Apprehension? Both? He can hear the wetness of the noise and slowly undoes James’ button-down top, fingers brushing over the rough hair beneath.

“Question,” James gets out. “This is going to sound very strange but who’s…who’s going to do the actual, uhm…penetration?”

Richard stops cold, halfway down James’ stomach. “Whichever you prefer,” he says. He moves back up. “We don’t have to do that. I mean, I could just get you off, if you think that would work. I don’t exactly have any lube in the place anyways.”

James pulls Richard up to him again. “Why don’t we stop trying to plan and see what happens? We won’t have actual full-out … tonight.” Richard stares at James beneath him and decides that he would rather have James above him, because if James is above him, then Richard can’t freak out and run away if this gets too nerve-wracking.

And if James runs away, then that’s completely understandable.

He lets himself settle next to James again. “This is going to sound stupid, I think. But could you come here?” He asks the question almost meekly, and James slides half onto Richard, one leg between both of Richard’s, propped up on his left elbow, leaning above the smaller man.

“Are you comfortable?” James asks, trying to tease, but there is a look in his eye that Richard thinks might match something in his head that is Oh god he’s above me and there’s going to be possible handjobs and possibly more and this is something entirely new to me, and rather nervewracking.

“We seem to do better when we’re not talking,” Richarrd says. “Maybe we should get back to not talking?” He tries for looking alluring, succeeds at blinking his eyes a few too many times, and gives up. “Oh, bugger.” He mutters. “I was thinking that we’re acting a bit like teenagers trying out sex for the first time, but I think we’re worse than them.”

“I’m cool and collected,” James corrects him. “You’re the one batting your eyelashes like a poncy git.” He leans in whispers in Richard’s ear. “You actually tend to look more endearing when you’re not trying.”

“I thought you were going to stop talking,” Richard whispers back, very quietly into the shell of James’ ear. James does just that, but his lips don’t meet Richard’s. Instead, they brush against his neck, right below his ear, and move downwards, to the junction between his neck and collarbone, where he fucking nips at the skin, and Richard squeaks, and James snickers into the warmth of Richard’s skin, does it again more gently.

“Were you ever into having your neck kissed?” James asks, placing soft kisses along to the other side of Richard’s neck, and back up to Richard’s chin. His breath tickles, and Richard wiggles beneath him, finding his leg more aligned with James’ crotch now and noting that he’s not the only one who’s enjoying himself more than he should be.

“I never was until now,” Richard murmurs, letting James do whatever he so pleases. “Are you a fan of neck kissing?”

“Mm,” James confirms. Richard is enjoying himself immensely, but he is also tired, since he’s been up almost twenty hours now, and he finds himself dozing off to sleep against his own will. He loosely wraps an arm around James, who seems to have picked up on the tiredness, and lets himself drift. James will be here in the morning.

The warm, heavy weight of James on top of him is the last thing he notices before he is lulled into sleep.

Arretez, il est interdit de continuer avant de ce point - Stop, it is forbidden to continue past this point.

Vous êtes interdit de passer - You are forbidden from passing

Mais, Il vous attend. Faites votre choix - But, he is waiting for you. Make your choice.

C'est votre faute. Si vous n'avez pas dit à lui comment vous vous sommes senti, puis nous serions des amis encore. - It's your fault. If you hadn't told him how you felt, then we would be friends still.

Vous savez ce que vous avez fait. - You know what you did.

Mais, vous ne devez pas parler l'anglais. En parlant l'anglais, vous parlez les mots incorrects. Parlez le français, et vous parlerez les mots corrects. - But you shouldn't speak English. In speaking English, you speak the wrong words. Speak French, and you will speak the right words.

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 16:08:57 GMT

Title: A Mild Proposition(1/?)
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: James/Richard
Summary: Richard presents a proposition to James.
Notes: Set pre-accident for Richard, hence the liquor. :P Damn you, Draco, for making me intrigued into Top Gear.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.

James has said once that he doesn't like girls with big hands. Richard wonders if he feels the same abount men with small hands. Richard has small hands. Richard also has an urge to kiss James and find out what it feels like, and find out what James' mouth tastes like, whether his hair is soft or if it's kind of scratchy, like Jeremy's is. Not that Richard has ever kissed Jeremy, but Jeremy and he ended up passing out on a couch one night after a boys night in of drinking, and he woke up with Jeremy leaning on him, hair scratching Richard's face, snoring loudly, and an accumulation of drool in the little hollow of Richard's neck as it tilted away, as if unconsciously trying to avoid Jeremy's spittle.

Jeremy has scratchy hair. And Richard has no clue what that has to do with him figuring out whether he should just invite James over, get the both of them a bit snockered, and kiss him, or talk to him about it and what have you.

He opts for the alcohol route, because clearly nothing could ever go wrong in this situation.

He has no clue where this sudden want to kiss James has come from. His co-presenter has been just that for several years now. And all of a sudden, he wants to kiss the man, who looks sort of like a very furry ferret decided to pass out on top of his skull.

After he calls James and works out that yes, James will come over and have a beer or two, just promise that TG won't throw up on him again.

It's hard to concentrate on what James is telling him all night, little pointless things that the two of them toss back and forth normally with a sort of natural ease, but conversation is stilted because Richard keeps getting distracted by James, the way his philtrum is wide and pronounced, and Richard wants to kiss there, too.

He's pretty sure that this urge to kiss James is not entirely a physical thing, because physicality generally implies kissing the mouth, and then getting down to business and getting naked and vertical in bed. Kissing the philtrum, that little spot right above the lip and right below the nose, that's not a physical thing. That's something that makes Richard's stomach do a little flip-flop when he thinks about it, and he thinks about kissing James' philtrum, cupping his cheeks and kissing him firmly.

"Richard?"

"Hm." Richard focuses on James, rather than his philtrum.

"You're drooling."

"Right." Wipe that up, quick. That's strike one.

"Are you okay? You've been really out of it all night. Are you tired or something? Maybe you should go to bed, and I'll just show myself out."

Strike two. "No, no, that's quite all right." Richard nervously ran a hand through his hair and took a sip of his beer. James arched an eyebrow at him, it disappearing behind a shaggy lock of fringe hanging down, and Richard had to hold back his hand, fingers itching to brush away the hair.

No, Richard, you may not touch your co-presenter in inappropriate ways. But you can get him drunk to kiss him? Shut up brain. This doesn't concern you. What does this concern, your penis? I am NOT having this conversation with you.

"Look, Richard, I think you should lay down. Your eyes are all glazed over. And besides that, I just asked you if you want another beer, and you've been sat there for thirty seconds now with this confused look on your face."

Strike three.

"No, look, James, just... sit. I'll get us another beer." Richard gets up, takes a minute to compose himself in the kitchen, and brings back another two drinks for them. He hands James one, and wonders if James can see how much Richard wants to kiss him, an urge that is bordering precariously on becoming wanton very soon.

He finds that by focusing on finding something for them to listen to while they're talking, he's able to focus on what James is saying. James comes to join him after a few minutes and they both start laughing when they find the tape that they used when they took over the BBC Southern Counties Radio, how crap the music was.

Richard's nervousness has led to him taking fast sips of his beer, and although he is nowhere near drunk, since he's only had three, he's feeling a bit more relaxed. They start going through the rest of Richard's music. They debate listening to the Beatles, decide to put on Def Leppard, leading to a discussion about good songs to shag to.

"You always see in the movies people having sex, and the music seems to match their movements, and if you were to try and shag someone to 'Pour Some Sugar On Me', or any song with Rick Allen playing post-amputation because the beats are just a bit too ... well, the closest word they can get is "off".

They work their way past Coldplay, past The Killers, and Richard deals with James mocking him for owning a Depeche Mode CD and debates punching him in the face, and they end up finally putting on The Who, listening to "Baba O'Riley" on repeat. Another hour flies by easily now, and they are on their way to being rather happily pissed.

They are listening to "Wonderwall" now. Richard closes his eyes and listens to the lyrics. I'm sure you've heard it all before but you never really had a doubt, I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you.

He has one of those moments, when you listen to a song and your heart rather stupidly tells you that this song is your song with a certain person and you think of them every time you hear it and it has great emotional meaning and other such things. And then he realises that he's having one of those moments about James May and since when did wanting to bloody kiss the man, which is odd enough as it is, turn into mentally dedicating a song to being ABOUT THEM.

...and after all, you're my wonderwall...

Oh good lord. There's clearly something here that Richard should probably deal with once he sobers up, because apparently he's more than physically interested in James.

James is watching him intentely. "What're you thinking about, Hamster?" Richard glances over. He wonders what James would do if he told him the truth. He decides to do a half-truth.

"Philtrums. Your philtrum, to be specific."

"Ah. My philtrum. That explains it." James is teasing him. "What's my philtrum got to do with your completely addled brain?"

"You have a pronounced philtrum." This conversation is going very wrong, very quickly.

"I see. And what is a philtrum, now?"

Richard reaches over and touches the little valley underneath James' nose, rubs his finger lightly over the soft ridge on either side, lets his finger linger, and then dropped his hand. "Uhm, yeah. That's your philtrum." James smirk-smiles at him, and Richard's stomach does a flip-flop.

Fuck. Huh. He has a very, very sexy way of doing that too. James reaches over, touches Richard's philtrum, and Richard meets James' eyes. He remembers why he invited over James in the first place.

"Remember when you said you didn't like girls with big hands?"

"Yeah?" James looks at Richard. "They're just odd. All," he does the hand thing again, waving it about slightly. "There."

"What about men with small hands?" Richard holds up his hands. "I mean, I've got small hands but you seem to like me just fine." He's saying very stupid things now, he knows it.

"Well, yeah, but that's because you're my friend. I think men with small hands look less oddly-proportioned than women with large hands, and generally, I'm not interested in shagging a man. Women with big hands in bed make me feel weird, if their hands are as big as mine."

"Ah." Well, this conversation has gone nowhere. "James?"

"Yeah, Hamster?"

"Uh. Never mind."

"No, no, what is it?" A heavy sigh, and James gives him a look, as if he's slightly concerned about the state of Richard's brain. Richard shrugs, gets up, throws out their bottles. James follows him, pestering him, and Richard is reminded why he doesn't drink with James often.

He turns around and James is right there, and he trips over himself trying not to bump into James, and James catches him, and his hands are broad and sturdy, and warm, and somehow very, very gentle as they release Richard. He bites his lip, surprised how very hard he is in the proximity of James.

His brain finally shuts off. That might not be a good thing. His fingers suddenly forward, thumbs hooking into the pockets of James' jeans, and James looks at him with that amused expression. "What are you doing now?"

"Dunno." Richard hears himself saying. He decides that thinking is an overrated thing. "As a general rule, you've never been interested in shagging a man."

"Yeah."

"What about being attracted to one?" He looks up at James, hoping James is somehow stupid enough to not see where this conversation is going.

"They're sort of mutually inclusive, I think," James answers.

"No, no, not at all. I mean, I'm attracted to some people but I don't think about shagging them because I know it will never happen."

"People like Kristen Scott Thomas?" James asks. Richard rolls his eyes and lets go of James' belt hooks, pushing away the man gently. "Come on, now. Tell me what's on your mind - you started this conversation and I want to know who you're thinking about. And why the hell you've included men in this category."

His heart thuds rather quickly, a solid thump thump thump that seems loud in his head. "Well, no, it's just. Have you ever wanted to kiss someone but not shag them?"

"Yeah, plenty of people." James pushes Richard back into a corner. "Tell me what you're thinking." He's still teasing, but the tone is not as light.

"Maybe another night." Richard sighs. He tries to push past James again, can't. "Look. I'm not in a mood anymore for this topic." He manages to slip past James and heads to his bedroom now, slipping out of his jeans and t-shirt, wandering around in his boxers. James sits on the bed and watches him. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Enough," James answers lazily, reclining on the bed. "Dunno. Five?"

Oh. He knows James is more than fine enough to drive home, but he doesn't want him to. He says so, feigning drunken worry. "Well, I think maybe you should stay. I mean, I don't want you crashing your car into a tree or anything."

"Right." James is placating him, perhaps. He watches Richard sit down on the bed. "Do you have any idea how odd you're acting tonight?"

"Yeah." Richard stops pretending. "Fuck." He sits on the bed, well aware of the fact that his cock is still half-erect. James reaches over and tangles his fingers through Richard's hair.

"You've always been a bit off, though." Richard cracks a grin at James' words and reaches over to return the finger- tangle through hair move, and finds that it is as soft as he had mused, softer than that, actually.

"You have soft hair." It comes out of his mouth very dumbly. James snorts, starts laughing, and Richard watches the corners of his eyes crinkle, his chest rising and falling in jerky movements as he snickers. Richard lays down next to him and they look at the ceiling. Turning his head, he finds James watching him and lightly kicks James' foot with his own. James kicks back and they start laughing again. He wonders why he couldn't have acted like this all night, easy-going and a fun guy?

"You have girly hands." James says. "If I have soft hair, then you have girly hands." Richard looks at him, and James catches Richard's wrist and holds it up, fingers wrapped almost all the way around the wrist.

"You have a nice philtrum."

"Thank you."

They stare at each other. "Since when have you been so interested in my philtrum?" James asks. Richard shrugs, pillow shifting beneath his head.

"Can I make a proposition?"

James rolls onto his side and looks at Richard. "If it has something to do with how much of a nutter you've been all night, I'm not sure I want to hear it." Richard frowns at him but plows on ahead.

"Well, here's the thing. I'd like to make a proposition-"

"So you've said," James snorts.

"And if you'd just shut up for a second."

"..."

"Thank you. Well. Uhm."

"I thought you wanted me to shut up, not you."

"I do. Shut up."

"Spit it out."

James levels Richard with a steady stare and Richard stammers and grasps for the words. "Well. Uhm. I think it might be interesting if we maybetriedhavingabitofasnog."

There is absolute silence from James, and Richard doesn't dare peek at him. When he does, Richard winces. James has an expression of, "What in god's name are you thinking?"

"Guess not?"

"Why?" The tone of James' voice matches his expression, but it is not resentful, rather, curious. Richard teeters on the edge of just kissing him to show why, and remembers that just because he will get the answer (hopefully) to why he wants to kiss James, his co-worker may not understand.

He answers as honestly as he can. "I've no idea. I just think that it might be interesting to kiss you. I think it's something that started when I was thinking about your hair."

"My hair."

"Yeah, I wanted to know if it was soft or like Jeremy's, all scratchy."

James seems strangely relaxed about this topic, as opposed to Richard who cannot sit still and has gotten up and is pacing around, staring at James.

"Richard, sit down." James sits up and catches Richard's arm, yanks him firmly to the bed. "We cannot have a discussion if I'm getting so dizzy watching you walk circles around the room that I become violently sick."

Richard has decided to just stop talking. James' gaze peruses Richard's face, and then shrugs. "Alright."

"What?"

"Well, go ahead then. I mean, I guess you can do that. It's not like we're going to have sex, are we? And clearly this isn't going to end up on the internet or anything. So, if you'd really like, I suppose you can kiss me."

Richard's brow furrows - this is not exactly what he was expecting. He was expecting drunken, open-mouth, wet kisses that are physical, sloppy, and not completely forgotten in the morning, leaving awkward silences for days to come.

"Well?"

Richard closes his eyes. "I wasn't expecting this." He says. "I wasn't expecting you to say okay. And I wasn't expecting this to be done sober."

He has a feeling James is making this seem less intense than it really is to keep the both of them calm. "It's not that big of a deal. I've kissed a few women where it meant nothing, and I mean, it's not like anybody'll find out."

"Well..." He knows Jeremy will find out, some way or another, and he won't let the two of them live it down.

"Besides Jeremy." James has had the same train of thought and a snigger between the two of them lowers the tension slightly.

The gentle touch of James’ hand on his knee makes him jump, startled, and James' face wrinkles up, and Richard watches, then holds up a hand as James sneezes loudly. Awkward is back.

“’scuse me.” James mumbles.

“Well. Maybe. Just. Want to watch some telly or something? For now? And maybe I'll-" Richard cuts himself off and James shrugs.

James glances over. "You might be right. This probably shouldn't be done without something else to drink."

Richard brings back two glasses full of ice and two bottles. "You pick your poison. Rum or gin?"

James takes the rum and Richard pours himself a glass of gin, taking a sip of it. The drink slides down his throat easily, perhaps too easily. But James is drinking just as fast as he is, and they watch the news, and Richard brings up the topic of drunkenness.

"You ever notice how your fingers tingle when you start getting plastered?"

James holds up his hand and wiggles the tips slowly. Richard reaches his own hand up and flicks one finger against James' palm. James lets his hand fall to the bed and Richard reaches over James to get the bottle of gin, taking another half a glass worth.

The conversation is stilted, stunted, until Richard can swear he feels the click of his body giving in to the gin and leans over James again to set down the gin, falls back onto the pillow and closes his eyes. "How you doin, mate?"

"I think the real question is how you're doing." James answers. Richard keeps his eyes closed. "Look, you're either going to do this or you're not."

Richard opened his eyes. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Right, that's it. I'm leaving." James snorts at Richard and gets up, and Richard catches the back of his shirt, pulling James back.

"Sorry. It's just - well, look, you'll be the first bloke I've kissed and it's not something I've been debating for a long time, more like two days, and it's a bit nerve-wracking, as you can imagine." Richard watches James for another long minute and then leans over and kisses him.

It is very abrupt, and slightly dry-mouthed, and James is quiet and still through it. Richard wants to touch James' hair, cup his cheek, and really kiss him, but it doesn't seem right, and he pulls back a moment later, disappointed in what has just happened.

Quiet again. "Well?" James finally asks.

"It was nice." Richard answers. It was definitely nice - he is sure that he is attracted to May now, because even that brief, four or five second kiss was enough to make his pulse jump and his cock stir.

"Would you want to try it again or something yes I know, stupid question, sorry." The words come out jumbled and rushed, Richard looking down at his knees, realising that he's still wearing only his boxers and ohfuck his erection is rather proudly standing up.

He rolls onto his stomach, as if James wouldn't have noticed it by now. "If you were to fancy a man, who would it be? Me, Jeremy, or the Stig?" James laughs and gives it some thought. "I mean, I'm guessing you know that for me it'd be you, since I didn't invite Jeremy or the Stig over."

"What would sex with the Stig be like?"

"I dunno. That would be interesting. Bet you could hear the crickets chirp from how quiet it would be."

James has a bemused expression on his face. "I don't think it would be Jer, he's too crass. He'd probably make fun of my penis."

"What, do you have a small penis or something?"

"No. It's quite nicely made, I'd like to think. But I mean, come on. It's Jeremy." Richard concedes that point. "I'm larger than you are," James says, a wicked grin overtaking his face, and Richard shifts, still on his stomach. Damnit.

"Fucker." He answers, but curious now. He wouldn't say he's small by any means either, maybe even a bit larger than average. Thicker, or longer? He wonders. He stops thinking about James' penis because two days ago, he wasn't even thinking about kissing James, and today he was, and now he's thinking about shagging James, and that's not a good thing, the fact that his brain is going to such places.

"But yeah, you're right on the Jeremy thing, and I'm pretty sure having sex with the Stig would be like having sex with your grandmother. It'd be uncomfortable and wrong and rather confusing, in the end. So that leaves you by default. I figure, well, at least you're fairly good-looking for a bloke, and aren't too shabby of a kisser, so."

Richard leans over, suddenly more at ease with kissing James, but is stopped. "Whoa." James says, blinking up at him, looking tired and tender at the same time. "That doesn't mean I want to shag you."

"No, I know. It's just that I figured I'd kiss you again, if I wasn't too shabby at it." James releases him and Richard leans forward, almost kisses him again, but decides not to at the last moment and lets his head fall back to the pillow, closing his eyes. He is suddenly very tired.

He keeps his eyes closed, listens to the sound from the television become softer, and James doesn't move. "So, we're not going to wake up in the morning and hate each other?" Richard mumbles, and James pats his shoulder gently. After a few more minutes, the television is turned off.

James doesn't get out of the bed and eventually Richard hears his soft snoring, gentle sounds as opposed to Jeremy's abrasively loud ones. His brain shuts off now that he doesn't have to freak out about his every action. He falls asleep as well, face tilted towards James.

When he awakes, the clock says 4:53 AM. He yawns and stretches, finding that over the last few hours, he's moved closer to James and his shoulder is pressed against the other man. He watches James sleeping, his eyelids fluttering as he dreams.

Richard leans over and kisses James, soft mouth, tasting vaguely of rum, a light kiss. He doesn't realise that James has woken up until after he pulls back and sees sleepy brown eyes open and looking at him very calmly, very quietly. His own heart has started pounding. "Oh, fuck - sorry."

He shouldn't have done that, he knows that much. James doesn't say anything, and Richard hasn't moved from where he is. James leans upwards, kisses him. He mumbles against Richard's mouth, "What're you doing up? Isn't it early?" Richard gives a little "mm" and presses his lips more firmly to James, reminding himself that it's early morning and he's got an almost painful erection and that he's not thinking clearly because of this.

All of a sudden, he feels James holding his arms tightly, and watches the other man's eyes fall shut again. Richard's entire body was electrified, sparks racing through him. "James," he pulls away, whispers, tries to collect himself even as he pushes his fingers through James' hair, nestles himself closer above the man, chest to chest, feeling himself rising slightly with each low breath that James takes.

Mouths part, breathing becomes faster, and Richard slowly moves more and more on top of James, hips rocking forward against the other man's thigh, mind spinning, completely in shock as to what is happening. He manages to get one hand in between them, snakes his palm down to James' cock, wraps around the erection, rubs. "Fuck, fuck, what are we doing?" James manages to breathe out.

"I've no idea," Richard answers, because it's true - he can't even try to fathom what they're doing because he's more concerned about making James' cock twitch again, making his breath hitch and hips shove upwards abruptly like they just did a moment ago. "Don't want to stop." He unzips James' jeans, pops the button, and slips his hand inside, going to move his hand under the rim of the boxers, but James stops him.

"Nn. Hold up, Richard." Richard pulls back finally and sees James looking at him with a more awake expression. "Right. I think we need to stop now." James smiled at him gently. "It's not that I'm upset - but I'm also very not sure about what's going on, seeing as I've got your hand on my cock."

"Right. Yeah." Richard slides off James, releasing a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding since James had started talking, and rubs a hand through his hair. "I must taste awful - morning breath and beer and gin all rolled into one."

James snorts. "I'm sure rum-beer-morning breath is just as bad." Richard sits up, stretches his arms over his head and his back pops loudly. "That was an interesting way to wake up."

Richard wants to do it again, he wants to taste James and make him moan. "Sit still." He leans forward and kisses James' philtrum lightly, and then gets out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower. D'you want any breakfast? I can make some if you want to shower first."

James sits up as well, propping himself on his elbow. His shirt is rumpled, a strange, quirky grin on his face. "I suppose some eggs wouldn't be bad." Richard nods, scurries off to the kitchen and listens to the shower start.

He thinks about what has just happened and the fact that he's still hard as a rock because every time his mind strays away from cooking, it goes back to James and the fact that James is naked in his shower. He wonders if James is wanking. He fries four eggs, makes some toast, and is just finishing up with the sausage when James enters, wearing his jeans but not a shirt. His hair is still damp, droplets dangling from the long tangles onto his shoulders, rolling down his shoulders.

There was something about the casual way he was leaning against the counter, the way his eyes tracked Richard's movements back and forth from plate to stove to table, the smile he offered. "Looks good."

Richard couldn't believe what he said next. "So do you." Wait, WHAT? Mouth, this is brain, do you copy? Please relay to me what you are going to say before saying it so any alterations to your stupidity can be corrected.

James laughed, a bit nervously. "Ah, thank you. I think." He moved to the table. "Smells good, too." They eat quietly, and Richard, staring at his eggs, mutters out, "D'you think you might want to do this again some time?" He should have been looking at James when he asks because a moment later, he hears James coughing as he chokes on his coffee. "Oh, fuck, sorry."

James doesn't respond for a while, and Richard decides maybe he shouldn't talk anymore. When James does talk, it's to say, "Would you like a lift to the studio?" Richard shrugs.

"Sure, I guess." Richard rises, puts his dirty plate in the sink, and takes James when offered the empty dish. "I'm going to shower. I'll be ready in a few minutes. D'you want a shirt to borrow or something?"

"Yeah, that'd be good. I'm not sure everyone would like to see me half-naked." James says. "I'll do dishes."

Richard almost stammers out, "That's very house-wife-esque of you." He holds it back and scarpers off to wash, forcing himself not to make any more stupid comments.

They get to the studio with very little conversation, do the show, and James has barely glanced at Richard once, let alone spoken to him. Richard is debating asking Jeremy for a ride home when James walks up to him. "I've been doing some thinking." He says as way of greeting. Richard waits, suddenly incredibly nervous, and James sighs.

"About what?"

"Well, about your proposition." Richard's heart pounds.

"What've you decided?" Richard stammers out.

James locks eyes on Richard's. "I'm interested."

Mon, 29 Jan 2007 06:02:18 GMT

Title: Intimacy
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: G
Pairing: Glinda/Elphaba
Book/Musical: Musical
Summary: Glinda’s feelings for Elphaba are different from those for Fiyero, and she’s not sure how to explain it completely.
Notes: Although this is Glinda/Elphaba, it is still mostly friendship, just starting to be recognized as perhaps a romantic inclination on Glinda’s part, and an unknown response from Elphaba.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@gmail.com and archive away.

Elphaba’s skin seemed to shine as the sun gleamed down behind her, and her already dark hair became darker as the light contrasted against it. She was sitting, reading a book in the last bits of fading sunlight.

Glinda watched her. She’d managed to persuade Elphaba to come with her, to relax outside by the shade of a group of trees. Elphaba had consented, but her version of relaxing was far different than Glinda’s. Instead of studying, she was instead reading a non-school book. Glinda was busy making a daisy chain for her wrist. She had already made one for Elphaba, and was now watching her friend, having paused from her own bracelet.

She had noticed that recently, she’d developed quite an interesting relationship with Elphaba. Their friendship had cemented to almost inseparable, save for the times that Glinda went out with Fiyero. But at the same time, her feelings for Elphaba were different.

It was friendship, for sure, but also a more intimate feeling. While Fiyero was handsome and his personality matched hers, at least on the exterior, she knew deep down as much as she denied it, that he was not shallow and not completely happy when he was with her.

And she was not completely satisfied when she was with him. Part of her had become less carefree, more focused on something else, something deeper. Elphaba was what caused it to show up. She had begun to discuss things with Elphaba, about what would happen when they met the Wizard, what would happen in the future.

Glinda felt a sense of companionship, and could not imagine a day without Elphaba ever again. There were times at night when she was confused about what to do with Fiyero and she would crawl into bed with Elphie. They would lie there, talking quietly, and then slowly, they would each nod off, and wake the next day, share a sleepy smile, perhaps a comforting pat on the shoulder and a quick one-armed hug. Then, they would crawl out of bed and get ready for the day.

It was intimate, and confusing, because Glinda wasn’t sure what else to label it. But as she finished her daisy chain, she slid it over her wrist, and then walked over to Elphaba, knelt in the grass beside her, and took her hand, pushing the matching bracelet onto Elphaba’s wrist.

It secured what she felt for Elphaba, and she put her arms around Elphaba’s shoulders, bringing her into a hug, and Elphaba reached to pat Glinda’s arm, letting her head rest against Glinda’s shoulder. Glinda thought she might like to stay like that for a while.

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 08:57:28 GMT

Title: Two Months And 21 Days
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: R
Pairing: Dee/Ryo
Summary: A series of two months and twenty one days, in which Ryo and Dee break up over time.
Notes: For Michelle. Sorry this took so long, sweetie, and I know your birthday was a while ago. My muses are really hard to prompt lately, however. Plenty of angst, but a happy ending nonetheless.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@gmail.com and archive away.

"We can't do this anymore."

The words are painful to Dee's ears. The day is December 31st. Time, approximately 1:33 A.M. It is also hard for him to deal with because exactly two months and 21 days after he and Ryo had first decided to become an item, Ryo had decided that being an item was not what he wanted. It was too much stress and confusion. And it is now approximately two months and 21 days later, ironically, since that had happened.

What had happened in that three months and 21 days since they broke up was a confusing thing. They avoided each other out of the station for a grand total of two days. And then Ryo came over that third day, and it was them, and Ryo put his arms around Dee and hugged him, and said that he was sorry. Dee held him, and they both cried a little bit, because it was okay, they understood that it wasn't being weak but being strong, and Ryo told Dee that he'd never known anyone quite like him and he didn't think anyone would ever know him quite like Dee knew Ryo.

And Dee said that he loved Ryo completely, with all his heart. Ryo said he loved Dee too, and Dee whispered that maybe they loved each other in a way that was so perfect and true that it couldn't be described. Ryo concurred that it might well be that way, but it wasn't the way that it had been before, and Dee nodded.

Ryo found himself curled up, asleep, in Dee's arms before the end of the night, however.

When he woke up the next day, Dee was curled up in his arms. For as dominating as Dee was, he was the one who liked to be held at night when they went to bed. It had become a nightly ritual. After they'd made love, Ryo would wrap an arm around Dee's waist as Dee pressed his back to Ryo's chest, and turned his head back to kiss Ryo goodnight, his fingers finding Ryo's and squeezing, stroking gently. Most of the time, Ryo's cock was semi-hard again before they fell asleep, and one night, Dee had confessed his pleasure of having that half-hard cock pressed up along the crack of his ass. Ever since then, Ryo had taken care to do that.

So Ryo had woken up with Dee in his arms, but Dee was turned to face him, his arm wrapped around Ryo's stomach and face tucked against Ryo's neck. Dee only slept facing Ryo when he was lonely and needed comfort. Although he and Ryo had done plenty of cuddling and kissing in that position, when it came to sleeping, Dee enjoyed having Ryo tucked up against him, side by side. When Dee slept facing Ryo, Ryo usually lay on his back.

He could feel Dee's morning erection, not quite fully formed, pushing into his thigh lightly. His own erection was slightly more persistant but his own subsided after time. Dee's didn't. Dee woke up, yawned at Ryo, and announced he was off to shower and take care of that erection, except he used slightly more lecherous words.

When Ryo decided to stay again that night, after spending his day off with Dee being moronic and getting something to eat, and then coming back and watching TV all day, he and Dee head for the bedroom, and Dee yawned, tugged off his pants and top, and settled into bed. Ryo looked at him and Dee waited, returning the look expectantly. Ryo finally took off his pants and shirt, and got into the bed. He curled up against Dee again, and then Dee was pushing back against him, and getting cozy, but that back-thrust and friction had caused Ryo's dick to harden and Dee noticed. He reached behind to put a hard on Ryo's erection, thumb over the head clad in boxers, and run his fingers along it.

Ryo tried to ignore it but he couldn't, and then he pushed forward slightly to Dee's hand, to the warmth that it brought. Dee turned over to face him and looked at him, intense green eyes hot and wanton, and Ryo's eyes fluttered, or so Dee told him with a smirk, as Dee repeated what he'd just done with his hand moments before. Dee paused, thumbed the head, and yet again smiled at Ryo's eyelash flutter.

"How much do you want me to stop?" Dee asked, and Ryo made a tiny noise in his throat as Dee stroked harder. "On a scale of one to ten."

"About a three." Ryo panted out, and Dee slid down, tugged at his boxers, and let Ryo's cock spring free of the material.

"How much do you want my mouth around your cock right now?" Dee's tone had dropped into something seductive and Ryo's need only deepened.

"Eight."

And then Dee's mouth was around Ryo's cock, and he was thrusting up into it, while Dee did magic with his mouth, because Dee was so fucking good at blowjobs that Ryo almost preferred them to sex. When he came, Dee swallowed and came up to Ryo, and Ryo looked at him. Dee's eyes were peering at him curiously, and Ryo leaned over carefully and kissed Dee, lightly, gently. "Thank you." He whispered.

Dee nodded. "You're welcome." They didn't talk about it, and when they woke up the next morning, Dee once again slid down as Ryo woke up and began that magic with his mouth. This time, Ryo had returned the favor, although Dee wouldn't let him at first, and restricted it only to a handjob.

It had continued like that for the two months and 21 days, sex and handjobs and blowjobs, and it had been exactly like when they were dating but there was no official title of it, and when Dee said to Ryo, "We're 'dating', but we're not dating,", Ryo had looked at him and shrugged. Dee had let it pass and then gone back to sucking Ryo's dick, which was possibly his favorite thing to do, for as often as he did it, and as often as he had done it that day ((four times, and it was only five in the afternoon)).

But now those two months and 21 days after the breakup are over and Ryo is telling Dee that it is over, everything is over. They have to stop, because he doesn't feel like doing this, he can't. But he is still spending the night, and when Dee and Ryo go to bed, they are both clad only in boxers and Ryo tugs Dee to him and puts his arm around Dee's hips and they begin to sleep. But before long, Dee rolls over and Ryo catches his hand as it searches for Ryo's own and holds it. This he does consciously, stroking it once again.

Because this is them, and this is okay. And Dee settles back to sleep again, comforted.

When Dee wakes up around three in the morning, Ryo's mouth is on his, kissing him firmly, mouth closed but still hungry, and his hand is on Dee's ass, groping steadily. Dee kisses back, and pushes himself closer to Ryo, and Ryo becomes fiercer. And then suddenly, Ryo's eyes open and he pulls away and his fingers stop the touching.

"What's going on?" He asks.

Dee blinks. "I... thought we were kissing?"

"Why were you kissing me?" Ryo's expression is not upset, but just slightly confused. Dee continues to stare at him. "I woke up and you were kissing me."

"... No. I woke up and you were kissing me. And you were rubbing my ass, and so I would say that even if I had started the kissing, which I didn't, the fact that you had your hand on my ass might imply that you wanted me to." Dee says. Ryo looks at him and then Dee reaches down and feels his erection, starts to rub. Ryo doesn't react, and this annoys Dee, so he tries to slide down so he can get his mouth around Ryo's cock.

"No. Stop. I don't want to." Ryo says. Dee ignores him and tries again, but Ryo covers his groin with his palm and wraps an arm around Dee's chest to keep him from getting further down. Dee comes back to Ryo and tries not to sigh. It really is over, then.

When he wakes up a few hours later, Ryo is trying to remember information from a case. He has been awake for a few minutes and is now wandering around with the case file in his hand. Dee tries to get Ryo to come back to bed, and grabs his boxers as he wanders nearby and tugs but Ryo wanders away.

"Ryo, come back to bed." Dee whines. Ryo ignores him yet again, and on a nearby pass to Dee, Dee grabs his boxers and tugs Ryo toward him but Ryo gravitates away. When he comes by once more, Dee yanks down rather than over, and Ryo's ass and penis are exposed. He continues to study, shuffling until he finds what he wants. Then he pulls up his boxers and rejoins Dee in the bed.

"We're strange." Dee says. Ryo agrees. It is strange, and most people who broke up with each other, and then had a form of breaking up again fairly soon after would not be able to do this, which is still like dating without the sex, and when will they ever be officially broken up, because it's not really over, and Dee doesn't understand.

But he falls back asleep for a few more hours once again, face to Ryo's chest.

It is New Years Eve, and that night, they are having a party at Ryo's house. Ryo has invited Dee, of course, and JJ, Drake, Ted, Janet, Rose ((out of politeness)), Diana, and Bikky and Carol are attending, although Ryo has told Bikky that there will be no alcohol consumption by anyone under twenty-one. He will perhaps give Bikky and Carol a small glass of wine if they ask nicely, but he doesn't want to give them anything besides that. It is only a small party, but before eight, Ryo, Dee, JJ, Drake, and Diana are completely drunk. Janet and Ted are taking their time, and Rose has only had one drink.

Dee realises that Ryo has taken off his shirt under the urgings of Diana. Rose is eyeing him, and Dee glares that Rose before taking off his own shirt and pants. Ryo stares, and slowly takes off his pants, as if he doesn't know what he's doing, his eyes on Dee. Somewhere along the line, JJ, Drake, Janet, and Diana all lose their shirts and pants, and finally Ted gives in. Bikky and Carol have retreated to a different room, having become frightened by the drunken adults stripping, although Bikky cast a longing glance at Diana as she removed her pants, until Carol smacked the back of his head and he followed after her. Rose has left, having given up on Ryo.

Dee knows in the morning, he is going to regret much of what happens tonight. For instance, he has already proclaimed himself to be a wonderful lover ((that he will not regret, but what he said next, he will)) and that Ryo has an amazing cock.

He has also announced that, as they play Taboo and he takes one of the extra blue pieces and puts it in his mouth, he is sucking on a man's piece.

These are only two of the horribly drunk things he has yelled. He has discussed in detail the taste of semen with Diana, and flashed everyone at least once his rear and front. He is going to wake up regretting this in the morning.

The time is only eleven and they still have an hour before the new year rolls in, so they decide to play Taboo. Dee has consumed about half a bottle of Long Island Iced Tea, and a bottle of vodka, along with a bottle of wine. Somehow, he is still the most sober person in the room. He does not understand this. Ryo has consumed perhaps half of what he has, and is perhaps the second most drunk person in the room. Diana has sobered up, as has JJ slightly, but Drake has decided JJ is the most wonderful partner and is waxing this to him quite beautifully.

Dee tugs Ryo aside. "So. Can I at least have a midnight kiss?" Ryo looks at him. "It doesn't have to be passionate, and it doesn't have to be in front of people. But I kind of would like one. I haven't had one ever."

"You're kidding." Ryo says softly. "Will wonders never cease... I would have expected you to have plenty, for being as proficient as you are as you are in dating."

Dee shrugged. "New Years kisses are only for someone special." And he walks away then, because Ryo does not want to give him one. He can see that plainly in Ryo's eyes.

It is less than forty minutes to the new year, and JJ and Drake are now on a couch, and JJ is kissing Drake. And Drake is kissing back. Dee watches this with amazement and amusement. Perhaps JJ will finally stop harassing him. It is most likely the alcohol talking. After all, he has kissed every person here except Rose. He gave Bikky a kiss on the head, in fact, and Carol one on the cheek. But he has not kissed Ryo. He is pretty sure the alcohol is the only reason that Ted and Drake let Dee kiss them, although the fact that Drake is now willingly submitting to JJ in a fairly passionate manner might say otherwise.

He looks at the TV. Nothing special is happening, just more reports on what's going on, talking, nothing he cares about. He is sobering up. He does not like this, not now. He grabs the rest of the bottle of Long Island Iced Tea. There is about a quarter of a bottle left. He tilts it to his mouth and begins to drink. Nobody else is drinking anymore. There is still some of the vodka left, and the wine. He finishes those off as well, and is quite happily drunk again very soon.

He watches Drake and JJ, still kissing, and decides that perhaps he should give up on Ryo. And then his common sense comes back and gives him a swift kick to the head and he decides that no, that is stupid because he and Ryo are meant for each other.

He looks at Ryo, whose head is turned away in such a manner, the angle too sharp, that Dee wonders if Ryo wasn't looking at him just moments before.

It is less than ten seconds to midnight when Ryo comes up behind Dee and turns him around. When everyone else is screaming a drunken cry of "Happy New Year!", Ryo is kissing Dee gently, and then whispering, "Happy New Year". But his eyes are still resistant to anything but friendship.

Dee watches him walk away and swipes at a momentary dampness to his eyes. He got what he wanted for midnight, but it seems he's lost what he really wanted for this year. His original resolution, made for the first time in seven years after he gave them up for being bullshit, was going to be to make Ryo as happy as he could.

He doesn't make a resolution, however, and it is eight years now. Resolutions are bullshit still. There is no alcohol left, and this is not something that pleases him. He doesn't drink like this often, where he knows he's abusing it for that night, but he doesn't really care for that night either.

He remembers a bottle of wine Ryo has stored in a cabinet. But he would never take that, because Ryo didn't want it to be used for the party. That is Ryo's wine, and Dee will not touch it. Even though he is drunk, he is somehow in perfect control of himself. He is walking without a wobble, and talking completely without slurring, and his mind is completely coherent.

Janet has gotten drunker, but Ted has sobered up enough to go get more alcohol. He has returned with two more bottles of wine, and a bottle of the Long Island Iced Tea for Dee, who has once again sobered up quite more than he wants. He is still buzzed, but not drunk. It is two in the morning.

For a while longer, he drinks, and he continues to play games with them, although now it is mostly them just being exhausted and watching TV and not really paying attention to the games. JJ and Drake are mostly the last people drunk and are still kissing. Dee cannot wait to see what happens in the morning.

When the party ends at four, when they all start to fall asleep, Dee has finished off the entire bottle of booze that Ted bought for him.

He wakes up at eight, next to Ryo, who has an arm over his hips as usual, and Ryo blinks groggily as Dee tries to get up. Dee is still either buzzed or drunk, he can tell that. He is surprisingly not hungover. He goes to Ryo's kitchen and begins to make coffee. Ryo comes out a minute later, and they sit there in silence for a while as they drink coffee. Ryo is not hungover, but he has a headache from sleeping on the floor.

Every few minutes, Dee will pause to say, "Did I really..." and then continue on with one scandalous thing after another. Ryo laughs a little and nods each time. By ten, everyone is up and gone, and they clean up the apartment, which is trashed. Dee grabs Ryo while he has a chance and pulls him close. He presses his forehead to Ryo's and whispers, "I'm sorry for last night."

Ryo shakes his head and gives Dee a small smile. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. Hell, I was the first person to remove any article of clothing."

Dee laughs and he and Ryo finish cleaning. They go back upstairs and get breakfast, doughnuts, and eat them before realising that alcohol plus fatty fried dough covered in glazed sugar is a very bad idea indeed. Dee manages to stop himself from vomiting and instead, they go to Ryo's bed and lie down and talk.

They are still tired, and Dee curls up against Ryo, facing him. This is the third night in a row that he has done this, and Ryo begins to stroke his hair gently. Dee slowly passes his hand over Ryo's stomach to his crotch, and touches his dick through the fabric of his boxers. He is erect, and Dee slides his hand inside and squeezes. He is entraced by the velvety feel, the vein that he can run his thumb along, and the pulse that lightly rushes through Ryo's cock in a steady rhythm. It is all something he has felt many times before, with Ryo and with others, but with Ryo, every time is entrancing.

He doesn't try to get Ryo off, although he asks and Ryo once again refuses. But he keeps his hand there, and Ryo doesn't mind, and when Dee questions why Ryo isn't going soft after a few minutes, Ryo chuckles. "I have a hand on my dick. I'm a guy. What do you expect?"

Dee nods and begins to fall asleep, his hand still lightly squeezing and rubbing and himself just being comforted by Ryo's penis in his palm, in a completely platonic situation, somehow. It is very hard to explain.

A few days pass, and then Ryo begins to restrict even further on the limitations. "I don't think we should do the whole hand on penis thing," he says, because Dee is doing it again as he curls up with Ryo in bed. Even though it is not time to sleep, they are there. They were often there when they were dating, for sex, or for a movie or talking or whichever.

Dee sits up and looks at Ryo. "Stop this." He says quietly. "Stop lying."

"I'm not lying." Ryo says, sounding not angry but not entirely calm about the situation either.

Dee shakes his head. "Yes, you are. You're going to tell me to stop touching you, which is understandable, and then you'll tell me to stop kissing you," because the kisses haven't stopped. They are on the cheek or forehead but never on the mouth anymore, except once or twice out of a gentle apologizing from Ryo's part, which made it hurt just a little bit worse, honestly. "You'll tell me that we can't sleep in the same bed, and then we won't be us anymore. We won't be us, and this is us. This," and he slowly strokes once along Ryo's half-erection.

"This is us," he continues, "and it's maybe awkward considering our status, but it's us and that awkwardness is us in a way, and so it's really perfect, and you know it is. And I honestly don't think you want to not be an item, if you'd think about it. I think we could make it work, if you just tried. Because the confusion is just you and your worry about what people might think, and your stress is work, but I'm here to help you through that, and stress from the confusion, but I'll be there for you too, and everything that might be wrong, I'll do my best to right it."

Ryo listens to him, but shakes his head. "No." He states. Dee removes his hand from inside Ryo's boxers.

It is a week later. Dee and Ryo have been hanging out. Ryo has not restricted any further. The sleeping arrangements are still how they were, but there is no touching of any kind except to cuddle.

Right now, Dee is playing games on a used PS2 that Mother and everyone at the church managed to chip in and buy for him. Ryo is drinking expensive, strong coffee out of his new mug he got for Christmas and reading the paper. There is snow coming down outside. It is ten in the morning. Dee is still in his boxers, while Ryo has added a shirt to the ensemble. After a while, Ryo comes with his paper to the chair and sits down behind Dee on the chair that Dee is sitting in front of. The controllers are stretched too far if he sits there.

Dee pauses as Ryo begins to read his game again, and saves the game. He leans back and starts to rub Ryo's feet, and Ryo wiggles his toes appreciately. A moment later, Dee feels the paper descending onto his head. "What are you doing?"

Ryo shrugs. "Dunno. Just seemed like it would be funny."

Dee laughs. "It is, actually. I was just wondering why you're using my head as a table."

Ryo pats his shoulder. "Because it's us."

It is not two months and 21 days later. It is only three days past the last time that Ryo had spent the night, when he'd placed the paper on Dee's head. But they are in bed, and Ryo is erect, and he reaches over and takes Dee's hand and puts it to his cock, and Dee touches it, rubs it slowly, but not with an attempt to get Ryo off. But Ryo arches forward and turns to kiss Dee.

"Ryo..." Dee says. He doesn't want to just be fuck buddies. He wants Ryo completely. He's not sure he won't take what he can get.

But then Ryo saves him. "You're right. It wasn't us, what I was doing. This was us. When we're us, we're dating, as much as it's hard to admit. We never really broke up until the first of the year, and even that was iffy. Whether I'd admit it or not, I think we've still been dating all along."

Dee laughs in shock. "It took you this long?" Ryo gives him a look and he shuts up. "So."

"So, I guess what I'm saying is that I'll do my best to get through my stress and confusion and fears and date you. That's what I really want, even if I wasn't willing to admit it for a while." Ryo leans forward to kiss him nervously for all of two seconds until Dee has captured his mouth in a fierce, hot kiss.

"So that makes it about five months worth of anniversaries that we've missed since we couldn't admit we were still dating?" Dee asks when he pulls away. "Because I have plenty of gifts to buy and plenty of blowjobs to give to you to make up for them."

Ryo sighs and tugs at Dee's hair. "You don't have to." But it is a futile statement. Dee is going to, and Ryo honestly doesn't mind all that much. Maybe the gifts, if Dee is spending too much money on him, but definitely not the blowjobs.

And at that moment, Dee is starting one of many that he will give, sliding down under the covers and pulling at Ryo's boxers.

Two months and 21 days later, Dee is sleeping with his back to Ryo. He rolls over, and his face presses to Ryo's chest. Lately, he sleeps facing Ryo, with Ryo facing him in return and his arms around Dee. It is only when Ryo sleeps on his back and Dee is on his other side that Dee needs comfort and does not recieve it. There has not been a day in which this has happened yet.

Dee does not expect there will be. He decided when they got back together that first night that he would make a late New Years resolution. He was going to do his best to be him, and Ryo would be Ryo, and they would be them, and it would be perfect.

He decided in two months and 21 days, he would see how it is going.

It is going perfectly.

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 15:43:55 GMT

Title: Vivre Ou Suvivre (1/?)
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: R
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Summary: Sometimes Dom can tell and sometimes he can’t.
Notes: Hm. Angstfic plotbunny just came along and bit me in the butt. Now I’m wondering if I’ll do more than a Billy POV and make a happy ending. I’m not sure I want to with this one.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food – Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it’s good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@gmail.com and archive away!

Dom hadn’t been able to tell – he hadn’t known that tonight was the first night. He didn’t see the way that Billy gazed at him and seemed to almost lean forward as if to kiss him, and then pull back. He didn’t know when Billy shifted in his seat so that he was leaning ever so slightly against Dom, he was really trying subtly to lure Dom into putting his arm around Billy. But Dom hadn’t suspected a thing.

And then Billy had kissed him suddenly and Dom had thought it was the whisky, and Billy’s eyes had told him it was Dom, not the whisky , and Dom was suddenly full of rushing heat and raging hormones.

~~~

Dom wasn’t always able to tell – that Billy was full of laughter inside even when his green eyes looked serious. He sometimes couldn’t see the way that Billy would quirk a smile ever so slightly while Dom was doing something with Elijah, crashing cars on a television screen with the controller in his hands and a beer between his legs. He couldn’t tell that Billy was smiling, even when his eyes looked serious, because maybe he was having a rough day, but Dom, beautiful Dom in his eyes, made him smile again. Dom couldn’t always tell that.

And then Billy would wait until everyone else had left and Dom would turn to look at him and see those green eyes that looked so serious and Dom would settle against him in the chair, squishing their bodies together, and Billy would smile and Dom would feel a flood of warmth through his body.

~~~

Dom usually can tell – that what Billy wants to say is in his mouth. His eyes are beautiful but his mouth is expressive. He usually can know what Billy is feeling from his kisses; a quick kiss is a hurried, affectionate mood saved for being on set while a longer, lingering one is full of love, sweet and affectionate, pulling at Dom’s heart, and sometimes that love kiss turns into one of a more physical thing, and Dom knows he’s going to get shagged, and this is also a fairly common kiss. Dom can usually tell a lot about Billy from his mouth, but not always, there is a kiss that is hard to identify.

And Billy has given them to him more and more often, and Dom is starting to wonder if he’s just pretending not to know because he doesn’t want to think of what it could mean, because lately, that heat that pounds his veins from Billy is not as often showing up.

~~~

Dom had been able to tell – he’d known that tonight was the last night. He knew it in the way that Billy touched his cheek and pressed kisses to his forehead, all throughout their lovemaking. He knew when Billy pushed his legs up just a bit further, slid just a bit deeper in so that Dom could feel it more and more, the way that Billy watched him and didn’t say anything as Dom arched his back, that this was the end. He’d been suspecting it for a while anyway. Billy loved him, yes, but they both were too scared to make that extra step and commit outside of New Zealand, because Billy had a girl, Ali, back in Scotland, and Dom was too young and full of life and even himself to really think that maybe Billy would have left her for him.

Dom wants to do something, but he can’t do anything, and the next day, Billy is gone.

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 06:19:01 GMT

Title: Sprawl
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: G
Pairing: Dom/Billy
Summary: Dom and Billy share an Eskimo kiss at night, and it reminds Dom why they’re together.
Notes: Eh, I finally got back in the writing mood, and rewatching FotR inspired me to do some drabbly stuff. Some of it probably isn’t that good – I haven’t written in forever, especially Monaboyd. All apologies for everything that is horrid.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food – Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it’s good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@gmail.com and archive away!

He rolls over from where Billy is pressed against his back, rolls over so that he is face to face with the man. They are both lying in bed as night pulls further ahead, and he knows Billy is drifting off to sleep. The way they were lying before, one of Billy’s arms was over his hip, tucked around his stomach, holding him close, and the other was stretched along the length of the bed, just beneath Dom’s pillow. Now that Dom has moved, Billy’s arm is heavy on his hip and his fingers are brushing Dom’s butt. Dom giggles, and Billy opens his eyes, looks at Dom. He shifts slightly, and his fingers are now on Dom’s hip, although he stays curled up by Dom.

Dom closes his eyes and leans forward, rubbing his nose against Billy’s. Eskimo kisses, and Dom enjoys giving them to Billy when he’s tired and about to fall asleep, because it makes Billy wake up and return them, and make a cute noise that makes Dom’s heart go fuzzywarm and his brain go tingly because he really does have Billy and he has him as long as he wants.

And sure enough, Billy yawns, and nuzzles back sleepily, giving a noise that can only be described as a sleepy “mewp” noise. It comes from his throat and seems to have a nasal sound to it, the sound of one being tugged from a near-sleep, and Dom lets Billy resume his drifting, tucking his face against Billy’s neck, his one arm tucked between them and his other threaded in Billy’s chest hair, stroking through it. One of his legs gets tucked between Billy’s, and he knows that Billy will start his whistle-snore, but that’s okay, because Dom kicks in his sleep, and Billy and Dom know these things but just don’t care because they have their moments like this, and that’s what makes perfect in the end.

Mon, 09 Oct 2006 19:53:46 GMT

Title: Playing Sisters
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: R
Pairing: Angelina Jolie/Gillian Anderson
Notes: Mmm, femmeslash. :D <3 So much love.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@gmail.com and archive away!

Playing sisters wasn't easy anymore. Not after last night.

Last night. Oh, jesus. The alcohol - that was a bad idea. That was a very bad idea. Maybe. After all, it had been there, hadn't it, and she just wouldn't have admitted it? She was attracted to Angelina. She being Gillian Anderson.

And the alcohol. She was never touching that again. No more Jack Daniels for a long time. It was all so blurry. Her, sitting across from Angelina, sitting on the floor with her. She wasn't sure why they ended up sitting on the floor, but it just seemed like the sort of thing their characters would do, sit on a floor together as they made their lists of guys and their categories, drinking, and so they sat on the floor drinking. They had no lists of guys, but they talked about guys. How guys were assholes.

Gillian mentioned that Angelina was bisexual, right, and Angelina replied back yeah, sure, with a fast affirmative nod as she took another sip of alcohol. Gillian didn't know what she was. Yeah, she'd probably had a crush on a girl or two back when she was younger, but didn't everybody? That was just a natural part of growing up. But now this was Angelina. The first time she'd met Angelina, her hair was bleached blonde and to her shoulders - still fresh from making "Hell's Kitchen". So contrasting to the movie she'd seen her in, "Gia" a few years ago, with long, dark hair that looked gorgeous and silky, not like the dry strands now.

And it was amazing what they could do to fix hair - Angelina's hair was a reddish brown, and although it was sprayed and teased to look like a clubber during filming, right now, it was a messy bedhead look that still looked soft and touchable - Gillian shook herself away from that thought process.

And Angelina had smiled at her when they'd first met, offered her hand, and Gillian had stared at those cat-green eyes and realised that this was one of the most beautiful women in the world - even if she looked like she'd bleached her hair one too many times and her pants were patched in the back several times, a scar lining her chin from some part of her past ((She would later learn it to be knife-play with an ex-boyfriend)).

And maybe right then, she'd gotten a crush on Angelina. Which led to them hanging out more often - trying to fit the role of sisters, but finding an increasing amount of pauses that didn't quite fit, looks that seemed to be maybe more, or was it just Gillian's imagination and this alcohol? But it was late now and she needed to sleep this off for the morning, because it was two in the morning, and they'd want her there by six at latest, and if she wandered in, hungover with the worst headache and breath smelling like something from the bowels of hell, she couldn't imagine they'd be pleased with her.

And then things got ... hazy. Getting to her feet, wobbling, giggling, and watching Angelina stand with much more grace to offer her the couch for the night. Or her bed. I'll sleep on the couch, Angelina had said. And someone, they'd both just collapsed on the couch, half-asleep already. And at some point in the night, she woke up, still half-drunk, and Angelina was watching her.

And then - She had to stop here and take a breath, finding herself lying in her bed remembering this and fingers trying to crawl under her pants; she clenched her fingers into fists, grabbed the bedsheets, and tried to calm down.

She couldn't focus on the sex. It was too much. It wasn't even sex - but there had been kissing, Angelina's fingers twisting in Gillian's hair and Gillian unsure of what to do with this, finally coming to place her hands on Angelina's shoulders. And she found herself embarrasingly pressing up against Angelina, pushing for friction, and getting a response from the other woman - oh, god, she had to stop thinking about this.

The scent of Angelina on her skin - it made her ache. She'd managed to show up on set washed and refreshed and only mildly hungover - or maybe that was just the throb in her head of what had happened the night before, the twist in her stomach of nerves as she went to see Angelina, to sit next to her in the makeup chair, to be offered a friendly smile that she returned carefully.

But it was still there. She could still smell Angelina - the smell of soap and a light perfume, skin, sweat later on, a little bit of alcohol on her breath - when she breathed in, exhaling, not wanting to let it go. And then there was a click of her door opening.

She'd given Angelina a spare set of keys to her apartment. And before she opened her eyes, she knew it wasn't possible, but she thought she smelled her. She thought she could taste her again already. And she heard the quiet sound of the bed squeaking as Angelina sat next to her.

"You left early." Quiet, not accusatory, but still asking without really asking.

"I..." No answer. She couldn't answer. Not with Angelina so close to her. So close to her heart - she could find it, take it, smash it, not sure what to think.

A hand on her shoulder - "You shouldn't have. I wanted to talk to you." Opening her eyes, seeing those cat-eyes staring back. Hair down, pulled back in a ponytail, strands falling out of it, tucked loosely behind an ear. Plain white tee-shirt and loose grey pants. Patched on one knee, worn threadbare in several other spots - still the most beautiful woman in the world.

Still no answer. No need for one, because now Angelina was moving in close to her and running her fingers along Gillian's spine. "I know." Kisses on her neck, and now she was falling and in the heat of the moment -

Absolute.

Sun, 16 Jul 2006 06:41:28 GMT

Title: Collide
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dee/Ryo
Summary: Dee's pushing, and Ryo's not resisting, and both of them are surprised but willing.
Notes: Written for Michelle. Sorry I haven't written in so long, babe. Set probably after six but before seven.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@gmail.com and archive away.

Dee shifted uncomfortably. He'd fallen asleep the night before waiting for Ryo to come over, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a beer. However, Ryo had been delayed, he guessed, because the man had never shown and he'd fallen asleep without realising it. And now he was waking up to a crick in his neck and a ... not uncomfortable table?

He lifted his head to find himself on the couch, and Ryo lying next to him, fast asleep. Ryo's head was resting against the corner of his chest, almost nestled against his neck, and Dee's arm was underneath Ryo, curled around. At some point, Ryo must have arrived and brought him to the couch. Dee didn't wake easily, so he wouldn't have been surprised.

The dawn is breaking, a light shining through
You're barely waking, and I'm tangled up in you

His apartment was dark, save for the faint light from outside that drifted to just barely illuminate Ryo's face. As Dee scarcely dared to breath, lest he wake the man, he let himself get lost in the image. How often was it that he got to wake up to Ryo lying practically in his arms? He reached involuntarily to brush away a few stray hairs from Ryo's face, withdrew before he disturbed the man, but Ryo shifted and his eyelids fluttered, before he blinked slowly and lifted a sleepy gaze to Dee.

"Hi."

I'm open, you're closed, where I follow, you'll go
I worry I won't see your face light up again

"Hey." Dee returned.

"I... got delayed. Bikky. Sleepover." Ryo yawned, and closed his eyes again, starting to sit up. Dee shifted to let him, and Ryo got about halfway up before he slumped back against the couch. "The door was unlocked when I got here. You should lock it if you go to sleep. And don't sleep at the kitchen table."

Dee watched Ryo for a second. The sleepy look on his face was still beautiful, and Dee wanted to touch him, kiss him, bring him back down to the couch and escape with him for a while. "I'm glad you came over," was all he said. Ryo opened his eyes, surprised, and smiled.

"I'm glad I came over too." Ryo said. And then he leaned back against Dee, wrapping an arm around Dee's chest and pressing his face against Dee's neck. Dee lifted his arms in surprise to make room for Ryo, and then carefully resettled them, slowly stroking up and down Ryo's spine. He didn't question it, simply let it be.

Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind I somehow find

Because these were the times that if he questioned them, he would lose them. And he savoured these moments. They were brilliant and sharp and intense, flooding his body with a warm rush that he got from nobody else but Ryo.

And then he pulled Ryo on top of him and watched his face shift to a shocked expression, but not resistant, as Dee slowly started to unbutton his shirt.

You and I collide

~~~

Ryo didn't know why he wasn't resisting. Perhaps because he was willing to give up for a while. Maybe it was what he'd done last night. He'd been watching T.V. with Bikky when his phone rang. He almost knew it was going to be Dee, and sure enough, it was. And Dee asked if he wanted to come over. Ryo agreed, and then decided to have Bikky spend the night at Lai's. It took a lot of convincing to get Bikky to go to Lai's rather than follow Ryo to Dee's.

And then when Ryo had arrived, it had been late, after midnight. Dee had been asleep, his neck at what looked like it would be a painful angle if he stayed in it overnight. One arm sprawled across the table and the other underneath his chin, he was snoring quietly. Ryo had shaken his head and smiled slightly, and then thrown out the beer bottle, put a shoulder under Dee's arm, and helped him up.

He managd to get Dee to stumble over to the couch and laid him down, watching Dee immediately resume sleeping. And he watched Dee for a while, sitting next to him, thinking.

He'd decided that maybe letting Dee get a little further might be interesting. A bit scary, but interesting. It hadn't felt bad, what Dee had been doing before they'd gotten the call from Carol, and so he'd shifted and leaned into Dee. He'd see how it went in the morning.

I'm quiet you know, you make a first impression
I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind

And now Dee had his shirt off and was running his fingers along Ryo's stomach, sliding to his hips, and Ryo shivered at the touch. So light, so sensitive, and strangely pleasurable. Dee placed a kiss to Ryo's chest, collarbone, his neck, and then his fingers caressed Ryo's lower back as he kissed Ryo. And Ryo kissed back.

The kiss heated up quickly, and Ryo found himself with one hand behind Dee's neck, twisted in the dark strands, and the other braced against the couch, curling, almost clutching the cushions. When Dee started to pull back, Ryo let out a slow sigh, taking in oxygen to a suddenly deprived body. And then Dee pulled him back in for another kiss, and Ryo found himself sliding his hands under Dee's shirt to splay his fingers across Dee's hips.

Dee was pulling him closer, and Ryo pulled back for a second, shifted back to where he'd been, a silent note to Dee that he shouldn't push it too far, because Ryo wasn't sure he wanted to say anything and break this just yet.

Even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine
Out of the back you fall in time I somehow find

Ryo could hear Dee's breathing getting heavier and faster, the way his fingers roamed what he could of Ryo's skin, and Ryo realised that he was liking it. He was liking it, and wanting more. But not just yet.

And then Dee slowly drew away, and Ryo almost wanted to kiss him again, to feel his soft and yet firm kisses that left Ryo's mouth bruised and willing for more.

You and I collide

So he kissed Dee again. And Dee kissed back.

~~~

Ryo wasn't sure how it'd gotten to this, him pressed against the couch while Dee lay above him, slowly rocking his body against Ryo's. He wasn't stopping Dee, and he didn't know why. Maybe he just wanted to see what it was like with Dee, because it felt good otherwise. Maybe he wanted it too. He stopped thinking about the maybes and realised that this was now and this was happening, as Dee slid his hand down Ryo's stomach and slowly undid his pants. He lifted his mouth from Ryo's neck, where he'd been biting and kissing, and leaving a mark Ryo knew he'd have to hide tomorrow, to look at Ryo.

Ryo felt Dee hesitate for a moment before sliding his hand down that last inch and pushing his way inside. And Ryo closed his eyes, mouth falling open slightly as he took in the sensation of Dee's warm hand against his boxer-clad erection. It had been a long time since he'd had any intimate contact at all, and the first touch made his hips jerk slightly involuntarily. He started to apologise, but Dee shushed him and kissed his stomach.

And then Dee stopped teasing, stopped his own slow touches to ease himself into the situation as much as Ryo, and his fingers were underneath the boxers, around Ryo's cock, and slowly tugging and stroking.

Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills your mind you somehow find

Ryo kept his eyes closed, rocking his hips in time to Dee's strokes, gone, lost in the touch and not minding it at all. And although maybe he would be in the morning, he didn't care because it was now and happening and good, and before he knew it, he was gasping and arching up, pumping hard several times as he came.

He opened his eyes slowly to look at Dee, who had withdrawn his hand and was licking his fingers and Ryo shuddered, both scared and intrigued. Dee didn't say anything, and Ryo didn't think he needed to just yet, but he felt Dee mouth something against his throat as Dee settled back against him, while Ryo slid over on the couch to make room so that Dee could slide behind him.

You and I collide

And Ryo whispered back to Dee. "You're welcome." And he was content to stay there for now.

Sun, 30 Apr 2006 02:37:33 GMT

Title: Unresolved
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dom/Billy, Viggo/Orlando/Elijah
Summary: Dom is cranky and slightly jealous. So is Billy. And what comes out of that except for flirtations, unresolved sexual tension, and eventually a revelation?
Notes: Written while I was just mildly bitchy at most people, so it has a bit of an angry feel to it. And then schmoop because you NEED schmoop with the boys. Haven't written Monaboyd in a while, so it might be out of character. For as in character as you can get for real persons you don't know. :D
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@gmail.com and archive away!

"Maybe I should just smack his arse, grab his jewels. Watch him as he jerks." Dom nodded at Elijah, whose eyes were wide and round. They were coming up with the worst drunken dares they could think of. Dom had been staring at Billy, mentally urging him to tell Dom something like that because damn it all to hell, Dom would actually do it, instead of just discussing it. See how Billy reacted to it.

And Billy was completely oblivious. He would pause and seem like he had an idea, a glint rising in those intense green eyes, and then he would shake his head and say something far too tame for Dom's liking.

And Dom wasn't about to bring it up for Billy, because he did it enough as it was about Viggo and both the Seans, Orlando, Elijah, and hell, even Ian occasionally. It was jokes for them but it wasn't with Billy. Except he really didn't think Billy should know that. He worried that something different might be in his eyes when he said it to Billy and that it might just come out wrong. Because Dom did have trouble hiding his emotions sometimes.

So he kept quiet, stared at Elijah instead. He'd heard the rumours. He really didn't care because they weren't true. He loved Elijah like a brother; they got on great and played video games and would just be general idiots at times. Elijah glanced back at him. Elijah had heard his whimpers about Billy. Elijah was definitely straight. Although he had been flirting with Orlando lately, and Dom was starting to wonder how much of it was joking. Orlando was flirting back, and Dom was pretty sure that it wasn't exactly in innocence.

At the same time, however, Orlando was flirting with Viggo. Dom thought about that. he wondered who Orlando would pick if he was serious. Probably Elijah. He thought they would work better. Viggo was just too serious for Orlando.

Billy licked his lips slowly as he thought and Dom stared. Damnit, that bastard had to know what he was doing to Dom. Really. Obviously he would never do this normally, he was really incredibly hetero. Really. The liplicking and skirts ("Kilts, Dom, really. Kilts. Shut up. Stop laughing or I'll sic Nessie on you. Oh, not like that. Don't you dare take it that way. Yeah, I think I will shut up now then.") or maybe it was that Dom trying to convince himself that Billy was straight because it would never work. Billy, as great as they were together, was his best mate. And you just didn't do that with best mates.

~~~

Billy stared at Dom. He wanted to think the man was flirting. He'd winked a couple times, but Billy was sure that was a joke, seeing how much he flirted with everyone else. So he didn't exactly know what to do. He'd kept his mouth closed, managed to stay calm and not actually say anything too overdone. Even though he wanted to. They all thought he was a demure one. Oh, he wasn't demure, not with what he wanted to do to Dom.

He wanted to bend Dom over the table and push against him, make Dom feel his erection pressing against his arse, hear the way that Dom would moan. He was sure Dom was a moaner. Dom was loud and energetic and possibly into kinky things. Billy wondered if they would, could, if it ever happened, not that it would, try out some different positions besides what he knew as the traditional. Say, Dom with his leg stretched as high as he could up, pushed against the wall, yoga having helped this, Billy stroking him with one hand, fingering him with the other, watching Dom tremble until Dom begged, and then slide in slow, lift his leg higher, and really pound into his arse.

Oh dear. Well. "Dom, can you go get me something to drink. Water, please? I think I'm starting to feel the effects of the alcohol." Actually, Billy wasn't too bad yet. He could take more. But he didn't want to drink much more, because he could lose control and say something. And he might actually try it on Dom.

That would not be good. No, he didn't think Dom would appreciate (Really, because as much as he flirted, he never flirted with Billy, and that was probably because he was straight. Because the rest of the boys might have been bi or gay and so Dom would play around but Dom was straight and knew better than to flirt with Billy who put on the pretense of being straight himself.)

Dom was back. Oh good. He took a long swig of the water, feeling the cold slink down his throat to his stomach, and set it between his legs, because there was no room on the table. They were playing cards as they made up these dares, and there were chips and glasses and cards everywhere. And there was cold between his legs and helping him calm down. Very slowly.

It was still his turn and he hadn't come up with anything yet. Billy lay down his cards; he had nothing. At the same time, he coughed. "Maybe we could convince the girls to lend us some of their panties and see who would look better in them."

Elijah shrieked with laughter, and Dom raised an eyebrow. Standing up, he turned around, tilted his rear towards Billy. Tight jeans. "What do you think?" He asked, turning towards Elijah now. "Yes? Think I could pull it off?" He wiggled his pants down enough to reveal that he did not wear anything underneath his jeans, the curve of his arsecheeks showing, the delectable flesh, and well, that cold glass was doing nothing for Billy now.

Shit.

~~~

Dom left Elijah's place feeling rather pissy. Because he had wanted Billy to say it. He had seen Billy swallow slightly when Dom wiggled his bum at him. There had been a moment of hesitation, which had inspired Dom to slide his fingers through the loops of his jeans and push down, revealing his arse. Elijah had only giggled again, and Billy hadn't said anything, stared, and then taken a sip of water again.

So now Dom wasn't sure about Billy. But Billy had given no other indication and so Dom was going home to a night of wanking and then falling asleep unhappy. Except, lookit this.

His car was not starting. Oh joy. Billy hadn't left yet. He could call a cab, sure, or he could crash at Billy's snuggle up close, and try to pretend that his dick wanted to come introduce itself to Billy's arse. He jangled his keys once, tried again, got out of the car and locked the door (why, there was nothing of use in it, a couple condoms, a half-read book, and a bag from takeout that hadn't quite made it home, but had been devoured as he drove.) and went back into Elijah's. Billy was sliding into his coat and Dom stepped forward, tugged the neck of it, and adjusted his arms.

"Hello again." Billy said, blinking at Dom. Dom blinked back.

"Hello again too." Dom answered. "Car's broken down. Feel like taking me home? Or letting me stay with you, and driving me over? Elijah can call to get my car towed and I'll pay him back."

Elijah was already slouched in front of the television, playing Mario Golf, and waved at Dom in agreement. Billy glanced back, shrugged.

"Yeh, sure." He replied.

~~~

Okay, so Dom was going to be staying with him. This was not good. Because Billy really, really, really wanted to have Dom pinned against the car, pinned down in the car, against a wall, in bed, anywhere, kissing him. People thought Dom had a libido like no other (and he did, it was true), but Billy could certainly be a challenger in that contest.

And the idea of he and Dom shagging like bunnies all the bloody time was the best idea he'd thought he'd heard in a long while. So he agreed quickly to let Dom come back with him, although he tried to sound nonchalant because he was only barely starting to think that perhaps Dom wasn't straight. There was the eyeliner. And nail polish. And the nice butt. And the fact that Dom had stared at Billy for that split second and his hands had lingered a moment too long as he adjusted Billy's coat.

So Billy started his car, pulled out, and started to drive back to his place. Dom was turned on his side in the seat next to him, staring at Billy while he fiddled with the radio. "What?" Billy asked crankily.

Dom yawned. "You look tired." He stated. Billy sighed.

"I'm wide-awake. I'm fine. You're the one yawning. Are you doing that thing that parents do, when they're tired or cold, they make you take a nap or put on another layer of clothing?" Billy hand't meant to snap that quite as rudely as he did. Dom glanced at him and then straightened in his seat.

"No. I was just concerned." He didn't say anything else. And there was tension in the air now. Billy would have spoken, but he knew how quickly Dom could get pissy, and he knew how quickly he himself could get if it was going to happen, and it might very well happen. After having an erection all night staring at Dom, and now having Dmo flirting harder than ever and with Billy now almost, his nerves were not doing too well.

~~~

Dom got out of the car, closed the door, waited for Billy who was taking his time as he turned off the car and got out, and made a show of rustling through the backseat looking for something. So Dom went ahead to the door, opened it for Billy, and headed to Billy's room and took off his shirt, let it fall to the ground.

Billy entered while Dom was hunting through his drawers for some drawers. Billy was not too pleased, as he vocalised this a moment later. "Dom, what are you doing?"

"Well, I was looking for pyjamas, Billy. Is there something wrong with that? We've lent each other clothing before."

"When we asked!" Billy protested. He went silent, dropping the issue, and Dom sighed, found flannel bottoms, and dropped his jeans, back to Billy, and wiggled into the pyjamas. When he turned around, Billy looked very ... his face was different.

Dom crossed his arms, perched on the back of the dresser. "You alright, Bills?"

"No, I'm not bloody alright!"

~~~

Billy regretted saying it as soon as he had. And Dom stared at him. "Fuck." Billy growled out and then stalked out of the room. He heard a thump as Dom dropped to the ground and then the fast sound of feet chasing him. And- "Ooomph!"

He went sprawling to the ground with Dom on top of him. Looking both energetically pissed and annoyed.

"Alright, then, Boyd, talk." He ordered, eyes and lips stern. Then he grinned slightly and his eyes sparkled. "Or I'll tickle you." His fingers moved fast, raked across Billy's stomach, and Billy shuddered beneath him, fought the urge to push up and push his quickly stiffening dick against Dom. However, Dom's fingers skittered a bit too far and felt it.

And then he froze.

~~~

Billy had an erection. Oh god. Dom had always wanted this. And yet, he'd never thought it would happen. And after tonight, with the slightest indication, he'd dared to put his fingers there and he was going to squeeze and see what happened, except something was already happening.

"Truth or Dare."

~~~

Billy looked at Dom with wide eyes. "... Dom?"

"Truth or Dare." Dom repeated. "Pick."

"Why?" But Billy knew why and didn't know what to do. "Dom, please."

"Billy, please." Dom replied, eyes desperate.

Billy stuttered out, "Truth." He felt cold all over, flushed and hot at the same time. Dom leaned in closer.

"Do you want me?"

~~~

Dom held his breath. Billy nodded slowly and leaned in. "Truth or Dare, Dom."

"Truth." Dom didn't hesitate. He hoped Billy was going to ask what he thought Billy would ask-

"Do you want me?"

Dom leaned in even closer, put his lips to Billy's ear, inched up, ground down, whispered almost without sound, "So badly it hurts."

Hello, ground. Billy had just flipped them, pushed Dom's hands above his head, and-

Mmm, Billy's lips on his. Billy's fingers on his skin, touching, tracing lines, making him burn and flush. He wanted, he wanted so bad. Needed and ached already, his entire body straining for more. Billy was already reaching between them to cup, squeeze, and Dom jerked his hips up, panting for air. Where had all his air gone?

He'd never been this sensitive. Everything. It was so good. and the way Billy was grinding against him, rubbing steadily, sucking his neck and biting, he was going to get Dom to come very quickly.

~~~

Billy groaned against Dom's skin. The man was so responsive and Billy was working at his own zip and button, trying to undo them with sweaty, shaky fingers. Dom reached down to help and Billy couldn't slap his hand away for moving, because Dom was finished helping and reaching between Billy to tug at his flannel pyjama pants, his naked chest pressing against Billy's shirt, which had ridden up and now there was hard flesh against flesh, thighs and ankles and feet all entwining.

Billy took Dom's cock in his hand, took his own, began to stroke them together, feeling Dom arch into his fist, rubbing his cock against Billy's, and Billy let out a quiet whimper, pumped his hips forward.

This was too good, what he'd been waiting for.

~~~

Dom knew he wasn't going to last long. It wasn't great first time sex, but at the same time, it was the best thing in the world. And then Billy squeezed, twisted, spread a drop of precum, and squeezed again. Dom jerked, feeling it building up in his balls, behind his eyes, in his cells, going to spread thorugh him and leave him fuzzy and tingling and warm and -

"Oh, fucking hell, fuck, fuck, Bills!"

Dom groaned, kissed Billy hard, and clamped his hands around Billy's arm as he came with a shout, and Billy rubbed frantically against him, and as Dom collapsed backwards, still kissing Billy and arching against him, Billy followed soon with his own moan that got lost in Dom's mouth.

~~~

Later on, when they were lying in bed, after another long session of kissing, and Dom starting to work his mouth down towards Billy's groin, Billy stopped him.

"Hold on, Dom. This isn't... this isn't just lust for me." He said, coughed, and reached forward to shove his fingers through Dom's hair and tug gently. Dom smiled at him.

"I know. Hey, Bills, ask me Truth or Dare."

"Alright. Hey, Dom, Truth or-"

"Me too."

Dom nodded. "Me too. Same here. Want more than just sex. So that's my truth."

"I've had a dare in mind." Billy said suddenly, winking. Dom winked back as he continued his kisses down. "Except it involves you up here and on top of me, and me inside you."

Dom laughed as he placed a kiss to Billy's thigh. "I think I'll take it, and improvise a bit." And then he licked up along Billy's thigh, began to improvise.

Sat, 29 Apr 2006 00:07:23 GMT

Title: Two Out Of Three Is Bad (3/2)
Authors: Draco The Lizard and Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: Jack and Daniel go to a karaoke bar, get drunk, and then Jack refuses to sleep with Daniel, infuriating the other man.
Notes: Inspired while Draco was drunk. She wanted to write Emo!Jack, made up an outline, and then reread it and wrote a much better version of what it would have been when she had sobered up. I simply added in the smut, which is what this is.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from our imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@gmail.com and archive away!

The next thing Jack noticed was a minty taste in his mouth. And scrubbing. Violent scrubbing too. He never brushed his teeth like that. Wait a minute, someone was brushing his teeth? Jack opened an eye carefully. Wow, he didn’t remember the sun being this bright. He opened his other eyes, and spotted the violent teeth brusher. It was Daniel, and he was looking pissy.

“Awake yet? You asshole!” Daniel muttered. “You sure took your damn time!”

What? Asshole? Time? Jack was a bit confused here.

Daniel just shoved a glass of water in his hands, along with some aspirine. “Here, take this.”

Jack figured that doing what Daniel asked him to do was for the better, especially as Daniel was armed with a toothbrush and was obviously in a violent mood. He downed the water, thinking that the toothpasty flavour was quite nice. Then Daniel started to towel his head violently. “What’s that for!” He managed to get out.

“Left over toothpaste,” Daniel growled. “And for being an inconsiderate asshole!”

“What?” Jack asked. He had been an inconsiderate asshole? When? Oh. Last night. With the cuddling, and the not wanting to have sex. Well, he had obviously wanted it, obviously. But the time just hadn’t been right. He didn’t want to be his first time with Daniel to be a drunken roll in the hay.

Daniel looked confused and hurt suddenly. “You don’t remember?”

Oh crap. Now Daniel was thinking that last night had been Jack being drunk and stupid, when that was only half true. He watched Daniel move away, still holding the towel and looking quite close to tears. Double crap. “I remember everything! It’s just that my brains wake up later than the rest of my body!” He said, and smiled. Hopefully that would reassure Daniel.

Daniel eyed him suspiciously, and flung the towel behind him, on the floor. “You remember everything?”

Jack nodded. “Every single detail.”

“Me spilling lemonade on my shirt?”

“Yep.” Oh, he definitely remembered that. It had led to half-naked Daniel after all. Like he was going to forget that.

“You grabbing my ass as I was helping you up the stairs because you were too drunk to do it yourself?”

“Yeah…” Dammit, he had hoped Daniel hadn’t noticed that!

“What about the part where I was all over you, begging for it and you still turned me down?”

Well, he wouldn’t quite put it like that. It really had been for Daniel’s own good, but Daniel looked so angry that Jack decided not to say that. “Er, yes?”

“The kissing? Do you remember the kissing?”

Jack grinned at that. “I definitely remember kissing!” And he was hoping for a repeat performance, to be honest.

Daniel lunged forward, and pinned Jack to the bed. Whoa, hadn’t seen that one coming. “What about the bit where you fell asleep, asshole?!”

“I’m, er, sorry?” Jack offered, as he stared into Daniel’s eyes. Were his pupils always this dilated? Jack didn’t think so.

“Oh, you will be once I’m through with you,” Daniel growled. And then his lips were on Jack's again, firm and warm and although for a few seconds it started out slow, Jack took it further and opened his mouth to Daniel, and Daniel caught his wrists, shoved them up against the pillow, and held them there. "I think I'll take control of this for a while, alright, Jack?" He whispered into Jack's ear and his eyes were hungry, his voice a purr and growl mixed, and as he settled his weight over Jack's and rubbed his erection firmly against Jack's, Jack had to groan.

"Fuck yes." Jack swore and agreed at the same time, and felt Daniel pull back to look at him.

"Why wouldn't you sleep with me last night? I was far less drunk than you thought I was. And although you can be stupid, Jack, you're a hell of a lot smarter than you were acting last night." Daniel stared at him, and the deep blue of his eyes was so open to Jack that Jack couldn't lie and pass it off as drunkenness this time.

"I didn't want it to just be sex. Drunken sex, I mean. I wanted something more. I still do." Jack said, and after last night, there was no shyness on his part, and Jack leaned in to kiss Daniel. As his fingers slid along Daniel's back, Daniel sighed and let his own fingers push up along Jack's chest to his throat, caressing the skin as he nibbled his way from Jack's lips to jaw, watching the man sigh. Moving along there, he got to Jack's ear, traced the area of the ear once and slid his tongue inside-

-"Yargh! Daniel, what are you doing!?"

Daniel pulled back, looked at a very surprised Jack. "I'm guessing you're not a fan of the tongue in ear effect."

"Definitely not." Jack said. "Meanwhile, I'm guessing you are?" Daniel had the gall to look hopeful, and Jack wondered if the other man thought Jack might stick his tongue in Daniel's ear because Daniel was a fan. Definitely not. No, Jack would stick his tongue other places. Such as his mouth. And then his brain conjured up the mental image of where else he could stick his tongue and he ground up against Daniel. "I think we should make up for last night."

"Exactly what I was thinking." Daniel said, and slid down to Jack's stomach, placing soft kisses along the way. His lips were warm and tongue sliding a wet trail down until he got to Jack's sweats. Eyeing Jack, watching Jack eye him back in curiosity, Daniel took the edge of Jack's pants in his mouth, bit down, sliding down with it, and his mouth let a gust of hot breath in as Jack lay there, arched upwards.

When Daniel slid back up and leaned in to the ridge that tented Jack's boxers, kissed up it to the tip, and sucked through the material, Jack let out a long, breathy groan. "Daniel." He panted, pushing his fingers forward to tug at Daniel's short hair, and watched as Daniel pulled at the corner of his boxers, kissed his hip, bit, and pulled down the rest of the way, pushing the material off Jack's lower half. Lying there, arms on either side of Jack's spread legs, Daniel tipped his head forward, kissed the head again, licked, and let his finger trail down it. Jack whined. Daniel lifted his head to look at Jack.

"Daniel, come on!" Jack growled, and reached down for Daniel. "Either do something or I'm going to flip you over and do something myself!" Jack finished, sounding hungry, and Daniel's head dropped momentarily, his breath deepened. When Daniel looked at Jack, his eyes were midnight blue, it seemed. He traced a line along Jack's cock and rubbed slowly with his palm.

"Got condoms?" Daniel asked. "And lube?" And then his mouth was around Jack's cock, hot and wet, sucking and laving the length of his erection. Jack moaned out an undignified response of "Yes-ohDanielfuck!" to the question, and earned a harder, longer suck before Daniel shifted above him, slid his mouth slowly further, lips wrapped around Jack. As he slid Jack down his throat, breathing in and out of his nose, Jack clenched his fingers in the sheets.

"Oh god, Daniel, please..." Jack pleaded, not sure to what he was pleading, but knowing he was losing control of the situation. Daniel began to bob his head again, Jack slipping from his mouth and back in, his cock shiny with saliva, bobbing once to slap Daniel's lower lip lightly as he released it from his mouth. Licking his lips, Daniel paused a moment, and Jack took that moment to reflect on how very talented in every way his linguist was with his mouth. With that, he grabbed said linguist's fingers and he wondered if they would be as talented as his mouth, then kicked himself for such a stupid thought. Yes, obviously. Daniel raised his eyebrows and Jack tugged him up to kiss again.

Daniel kept control of this kiss, pushing Jack against the pillows, and Jack ground up against Daniel, realising that his own bottoms were still on. Well, that would not do at all. He hooked his fingers in Daniel's pants, pushed down until Daniel slid free of them and then brought his fingers back up to hook in Daniel's boxers, letting his fingers follow the angle of the skin. Daniel caught Jack's other hand as it reached for the bedside table drawer. "Lube in there?" Daniel asked.

Jack nodded, trying to pull his fingers free again, but Daniel shook his head, got the lube himself, and a condom, tearing the package and rolling it onto Jack, forcing the man to relinquish any control. Jack watched as Daniel uncapped the lube and squirted it onto his fingers, spreading the slippery stuff around and then reaching behind himself to press a finger against himself. Jack stared, his cock twitching. "Daniel." He stared to say, filled with a thousand protests. Let me do that. or Want to take you without preparation, fuck you so hard that you'll feel it for days. Ended up watching Daniel sink onto a finger and seeing the muscles in his legs flex.

"You, Jack, are an asshole." Daniel stated. "I hadn't imbibed nearly enough to be as inebriated as you thought. You were far worse than me, and I should be mad at you, because you completely passed out on me when I was kissing you.” Daniel then wagged a finger at Jack and glared. “I don't know about you, but when I'm kissing someone, I tend to be focusing on the sensation of someone kissing me.” Now Daniel was jabbing the finger into Jack’s chest, emphasising his point. “And you are not allowed to tease someone, to allure to someone getting thoroughly," here he paused to slide a second finger into himself, sinking further down, right above Jack's groin, knees bent, "fucked."

"Neither are you!" Jack tried to protest. Daniel paused in his motions, stopping his slow rise and fall on his fingers, his other hand having come to wrap around his cock and stroke slowly. "You’re worse, admit it. And don't you dare get off without me."

Daniel twisted his fingers gently, harder, and let out a tiny gasp. "Just think of this as punishment for last night." He breathed, staring at Jack. And then suddenly Daniel was shifting to lean over, revealing the curve of his hip that led to his ass, and Jack slid his hand forward to grab, press his thumb into, over the skin and hear Daniel make another tiny noise and squirm. When Daniel came back up, he had Jack's shirt. "Want me to tie you up?"

Jack shook his head. "Want to be inside of you, Daniel!" He protested. Daniel paused and leaned forward, taking Jack's wrists, tying them together. Jack wondered how exactly Daniel had translated ‘Want to be inside of you’ into ‘Oh yes, please tie me up with that shirt’. Then he figured that Daniel probably knew what he was doing, and that he might as well go along with it.

"Keep them above your head." Daniel said, and then took the lube, slicked Jack's cock, and positioned himself, wrapping his fingers around the base and pushing down against Jack, and Jack slid into tight heat, clenched his fists, felt Daniel squeeze around him and groan. As Daniel slid further on him, Jack concentrated on not coming right then and there. He wasn't going to last long, he could tell. Daniel was too wound up too, from his own self-teasing preparation. And Jack thrust up the slightest bit, sheathed himself completely in Daniel, felt Daniel's ass tighten around him again. Daniel stared at Jack, mouth hanging open slightly, before his eyes fluttered shut and his tongue came out to swipe his lower lip.

"Jack." He breathed. And then he began to ride Jack. He took complete control again, rising his body up, dropping down, hips rolling forward, squeezing, making the bedsprings squeak while Jack fought the urge to grab Daniel's cock with his tied hands and tug slowly, gently, until Daniel was undone. Daniel was in control here, and Jack knew without a doubt that Daniel could torture Jack far worse than this way. And then Daniel shuddered above him and Jack thrust up as the head of his cock rubbed over Daniel's prostate, watched Daniel almost collapse over him as his legs trembled, his body shivered. From his throat came a groan that was louder than Jack would have expected. Not surprised that Daniel was loud, however, during sex, Jack reasoned that it was only normal for how vocal he was at SGC. But he figured it was probably a good thing he didn’t shout ‘Oh god yes Jack deeper’ all the time at the SGC. People might suspect something was up. And down. And up again. And down and up and down. He could definitely get used to this.

When Daniel began to ride Jack faster, hips thrusting helplessly, Jack closed his eyes and watched a phantom image of Daniel behind his eyelids, the memory burned in his mind forever, and he jerked upwards. "Danny." He panted out, gripping the pillow with his fingers, meeting Daniel's thrusts with his own. "Oh, fuck, fuck!" He moaned out, and then lost himself in the feel of Daniel spasming around him, sank once more into the deep heat of Daniel's ass, and came with Daniel, watching Daniel leaning over him, fingers finding Jack's and tightening in them, moving to undo the knot around his wrists, and Jack grabbed Daniel's wrists as Daniel collapsed on top of him.

"Fuck." Daniel panted out. "I think my brain is dead." He looked genuinely concerned and Jack had to grin at that.

"That was mind-blowing sex." Jack agreed, and wrapped an arm around Daniel, withdrawing carefully, sliding off the condom and tying it off before dropping it in the trash bin next to the bed. Daniel pressed his cheek to Jack's chest, breathed out a long sigh. "Happy?"

"... For now." Daniel said, and raised his head. "However, I intend to get you drunk tonight and prove to you that we most definitely can have mind-blowing sex while we're under the influence of alcohol also." His eyes gleamed wickedly.

Jack patted Daniel on his back. “Sure thing. I think I have some tequila lying around. Just promise me one thing, Daniel.”

“What’s that?”

“No karaoke.”

Sat, 29 Apr 2006 00:06:32 GMT

Title: Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad (2/2)
Authors: Draco The Lizard and Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: Jack and Daniel go to a karaoke bar, get drunk, and then Jack refuses to sleep with Daniel, infuriating the other man.
Notes: Inspired while Draco was drunk. She wanted to write Emo!Jack, made up an outline, and then reread it and wrote a much better version of what it would have been when she had sobered up. I simply added in the smut and a bit of afterfic. :D
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from our imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away.

Okay, so what was wrong with this picture? Granted, his mind was a little blurry right now. He really shouldn’t have had the second tequila. It was all Teal’c’s fault anyway, for some reason. And maybe he should’ve stopped after seven beers. Seven was more than enough anyway, especially with the two tequilas. Two tequila shots. Was he insane? He was thinking that he might be. Especially when he had done karaoke. Yep, definitely insane. He would call Fraiser in the morning, to see if there was a nice padded cell free for him. Daniel would be all for it, and think of it as a revenge for the deal with whatshisname, with the little blue bugs.

There was something about Daniel… Oh! Right, Daniel was angry with him for some reason. But why?

~~~

Teal’c and Carter had been absolutely right. They hadn’t had a good team night in way too long. And when Carter said she knew of a place, he wanted to check it out, especially when Carter explained Fraiser had told her about it. Fraiser knew her bars, it was bound to be good. Unfortunately Daniel had pointed out that they couldn’t have a team night at noon. He said it was linguistically impossible. Jack didn’t care. If he was going to deal with Daniel, he was going to need something to drink.

So they followed Daniel’s unfortunately reasonable advice to meet up at ten at the bar Carter mentioned. Jack approved, the price for beer seemed reasonable and the music wasn’t too shabby either. He was just beginning to think that it would be a great night when Daniel elbowed him and pointed out a sign. Karaoke Night. Oh crap. He hurried over to the bar to get another beer. He was going to need it. Why had Carter dragged them here? Why had Fraiser suggested this bar? He wondered how Teal’c would feel about the karaoke. He’d probably consider it another strange Tau’ri custom, and once again wonder why he had gotten involved with the Tau’ri in the first place. Jack certainly wondered the same thing. Jaffa probably didn’t have karaoke.

“You that thirsty?” Daniel asked, pointing at his other beer.

Okay, maybe two beers at one time was over-doing it, but he really didn’t like karaoke. ““No, but if there’s gonna be karaoke at eleven, I need to have more beer.”

Carter had the gall to ask him he was building up courage to sing. Hah! She’d wish. Wait a minute… what were the odds of Teal’c suggesting a team night just when Carter knew of a good bar? He eyed the other two. Could they have planned this? And for what reason? To get him to do karaoke? Hah. Fat chance of that.

He glared at her sternly. “’Course not. Just building up my ability to not be bothered by the bad singers.”

He gulped down some of the beer when Teal’c suggested that the people here might actually be half-decent. He’d wish. They should be so lucky to be in the one bar with karaoke that was frequented by people who could actually sing. “Hah! I know karaoke. It’s all about drunken people singing bad songs drunkenly. And the only way to enjoy it is by being drunk yourself.” He took another big gulp. He had about fifty more minutes until the karaoke started, and he was going to need every minute of it.

“Karaoke is not about being drunk,” Carter argued. “It’s about having fun.”

He snorted at that. “Yes, and the only way to have karaoke related fun is by being drunk. Trust me.” Perhaps Daniel would back him up on this. “Daniel? You’ve been at university and college half your life. You must’ve been in karaoke bars, students are known for doing it.” And boy, he would pay good money to see Daniel do karaoke. Perhaps if he could get Daniel drunk enough, he could get him to do some embarrassing eighties song.

“Er, well, I’ve only been in one a couple of times. But yeah, it’s only fun if you’re drunk and the people are bad drunken singers.” Daniel shrugged. “It’s no fun if someone can actually sing well.”

Jack beamed smugly at Teal’c and Carter, who remained sceptical. “We’ll see who’s right and who has more fun. The two of you trying to get drunk ASAP, or me and Teal’c staying sober. Well, more sober at any rate.”

Teal’c was firmly on Carter’s side. “I am sure I will have a good time in this establishment, I do not require alcohol for that.”

Well, Teal’c didn’t exactly have a choice in that. His Goa’uld larvae prevented him from getting drunk. It was unfair, really. Teal’c had to endure karaoke night sober. Having a larvae really had its downsides sometimes. “Let’s hear you say that in two hours. Karaoke will have started properly by then, never does until the first drunkards decide to sing. Like I said, no one sober is insane enough to do karaoke.”

“We shall see, O’Neill,” Teal’c said. It almost sounded like a threat, combined with the eyebrow raise.

He shrugged it off and got two more beers. If anyone asked, he would say the other one was for Daniel. Teal’c was just being Teal’c. Just Teal’c being Teal’c… and getting the karaoke book? And Carter looking through it with interest? Now that just wasn’t right. He put the other glass in front of Daniel. And if it just happened to move over to his side, well, that was just a pure coincidence.

Daniel had spotted the strangeness of it too. “You guys aren’t seriously going to sing, are you?”

“Of course we are. We’re going to prove that sober people can have fun with karaoke too,” Carter replied, and Teal’c nodded.

Oh crap. He didn’t like the sound of that. “For crying out loud, Carter, I believe you. I don’t need you and Teal’c singing some crap song to proof it.” He drank from his third glass, and sneaked the fourth glass closer. Daniel didn’t say anything about it, which was good. The more beers for him then.

“We shall demonstrate nonetheless, O’Neill.” Teal’c pointed at the book, and Carter seemed to agree with his choice.

“We’ll do that one. It’s perfect,” Carter said. Jack doubted it. There was no song perfect for karaoke. Especially not if Carter and Teal’c were going to do it. He had to work with them!

Daniel seemed more curious about the song. “Which one is it?” He asked.

Carter had the better reflexes and shut the book before he got a peep. “You’ll just have to have patience, But I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” Teal’c and she went to inform whoever was in charge that they had chosen a song. Jack doubted he would be pleasantly surprised. He was already surprised at the two of them wanting to do karaoke.

“Seriously, T, which song have you chosen?” Jack asked. That way he could do some mental preparing. Teal’c just looked at him, and said nothing. “Carter? I’ll order you to tell me if I have to.”

Carter took a sip of her wine. “Off-duty, sir. And patience is a virtue after all.”

“I’ve never been virtuous in my life, and I don’t intend to start now. So just give it up before I have to resort to other tactics,” He threatened. Okay, so his tactic consisted of ordering Daniel to tickle her to death until she spilled, it was still a decent tactic.

“Why am I not surprised to hear that,” Carter said, and shared a glance with Daniel and Teal’c.

“Hey!” Jack didn’t have a good reply for it, but he knew it was an insult. “It’s not like you have any patience with your technical doodads!”

“At least my first plan is not ‘let’s blow it up’ if a door doesn’t open.” Carter said to no one in particular.

“A door is not a technical doodad, Carter, doesn’t count,” Jack replied. Why didn’t Daniel say something to help him? Sure, stay neutral. Be Switzerland. Enjoy your chocolate and cuckoo clocks.

“We have come across some very advanced doors, O’Neill,” Teal’c said. “Some of them have proven to be quite difficult to operate.”

“Like the door on P4X-689,” Carter continued. “That was very difficult to operate, wasn’t it sir?”

Jack grumbled as he finished his third beer and decided to start on the fourth, since it was here right in front of him and everything. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know the door was supposed to open to the inside rather than the outside.

“At least the people treated us with a lot more respect after that,” Daniel said. Aha! Finally, Daniel wakes up to say something in defence of his best friend. About damn time too. “If Jack hadn’t blown the door up, they might never have wanted to trade with us.”

“They only wanted the C4, Daniel. They just thought the explosion looked pretty. Still, they had some useful things,” Carter admitted.

Jack eyed the clock. It was getting close to eleven, and any minute now one of the bartenders was going to announce the first drunken contestant. Would getting a fifth beer be pushing it? He decided to let it depend on the quality of the first singer. If the first singer was obviously drunk, it was a sign that Jack should get drunk as well.

Too bad the first singer was a young girl who was doing karaoke did fairly well. He ignored Teal’c’s and Carter’s smug glances, they would get theirs when they had to sing. He hummed along with the next couple. Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near. He never got that feeling when he’d been in love with someone. Oh, sure, he could relate to wanting to be close, but he had never spotted any birds being nearer. He usually had better things to do than bird-spotting anyway. He eyed Daniel. Linguist-spotting was much more fun. Allowed for interaction, though not the kind he would prefer. Still, he had never managed to piss off a bird the way he pissed off Daniel, which to him meant that Daniel was infinitely better than birds. He drank from his fourth beer, and saw Daniel go to the bar. Hmm, maybe he should’ve left him the drink anyway. This wasn’t making him look any better. He’d better get Daniel another beer later on, and make sure he didn’t drink it instead.

He did his best to ignore the next couple of singers, who confirmed his drunken karaoke theory. They were able to stand, but that was about it.

“So, when’s your turn?” Daniel asked.

Good question. When would Teal’c and Sam embarrass the hell out of themselves. Dammit, next time he would have to bring a camera. Or a sound recorder. Something he could use for leverage next time Carter brought up the door incident in public again.

Carter was about to say something, and Jack would bet his next two beers it was ‘patience is a virtue’ when the karaoke guy made an announcement. “And next to sing a song are Sam and Murray. Please give them a warm applause, ladies and gentlemen!”

Daniel elbowed him. What? Oh, maybe he didn’t like Jack sneaking beer to himself again. Whoops. “They’re up!” Teal’c and Sam?

“Dammit, I was hoping it wasn’t their turn yet! Four beers is not enough to deal with friends doing karaoke!” It wasn’t. Maybe if he just took a really big gulp from Daniel’s beer. His was empty and he needed it more. He could buy Daniel two beers later.

It turned out that the last minute gulp hadn’t been necessary. Carter and Teal’c did "I Got You Baby" fairly well. Next to him, Daniel sniggered. “’I Got You Babe’,” He said. “Think they’re trying to tell us something?”

He snorted at that idea. Carter and Teal’c? Never. They both were too busy to have anything like a love life. Carter spent all her time with naquadah reactors, which just couldn’t be healthy. She really need a more normal hobby. Why hadn’t she liked his knitting idea? Sarah had always said it was quite relaxing. Or maybe that was just a ploy to get him to knit his own socks. “Doubt it. Still, they’re not bad. Better than some of the others, anyway.”

They were certainly getting theatrical. Carter was swooning over Teal’c, although Jack had no reference for Carter’s swooning habits to see how bad this. And Teal’c had slung an arm around her shoulder. It was quite sweet, in a sickening way. And he just knew that the two of them would team up to get him and Daniel to do the same thing. And as much as he liked the idea of Daniel swooning over him, he’d rather not do it whilst singing some soppy song. “Daniel? Let’s make a pact. Let’s promise each other that no matter what happens tonight, neither of us is going to come anywhere NEAR that machine.” If Teal’c and Carter were teaming, so were he and Daniel, damn them.

Daniel was taking his sweet time thinking about, much to Jack’s annoyance. Surely it wouldn’t that difficult a decision? But eventually he agreed, and they toasted to their pact.

~~~

Unfortunately, the pact had failed. Jack blamed the tequila. And Teal’c for not drinking his tequila. He also blamed Carter for being a manipulative sneak, and Daniel for not putting up more of a fight. He supposed he could blame himself, but decided that he had blamed enough people already. Wait, he hadn’t blamed the guy in charge of the karaoke. He deserved some blame too.

It all started after Carter had suggested My Sharona. He had said no, no to My Sharona and no to karaoke in general. He liked My Sharona, so he was not going to butcher it.

Then Teal’c had proposed a deal. Tequila in exchange for singing. It sounded fair to Jack, but only if Teal’c got the drinks and he and Daniel got to think about their answer afterwards. Jack didn’t need to do much thinking, his answer was a firm ‘no’ anyway. He didn’t know what Daniel’s answer was, but he hoped it was quite firm too. And there went his dirty mind. The alcohol wasn’t doing him much good in that department. Which beer was this? Six or seven? And did it matter?

Daniel spluttered for a bit. What, did he really think Jack was going to say yes after one tequila shot. He was not that easy. Well, depending on the person really. If Daniel got him tequila, he’d be very easy.

“We’re just gonna say no after the shot. Easy. If Teal’c wants to buy us drinks, I’m not stopping him,” He said. “I’m all for other people buying me drinks.” Especially if Daniel did it. The man got paid enough. Jack bought him drinks. Okay, so they ended up on his part of the table, but the thought still counted.

“I noticed,” Daniel said icily. Oh, what was that supposed to mean? Was that Daniel’s way of saying ‘you bought me a beer and then drank it yourself, you asshole’? Cause that was bad. He didn’t want Daniel thinking of him as a selfish asshole. He’d be nicer to Daniel from now. Show him he wasn’t a selfish asshole. Unless it came to alcohol. Then it was every man for himself. All was allowed in love, war and alcohol.

Teal’c slammed the glasses on the table and Carter had brought the salt and the lemons. Efficient as always, his team. “Everybody’s done this before?” She asked.

“I have not. What is the use of the lemons and the salt?” Teal’c asked. Oh boy, was he in for a treat.

Jack figured that he might as well explain tequila shots to Teal’c. And what better way then by doing a demonstration? “Oh, you’re about to find out what the lemons are for. Just follow my lead.” He licked his hand, and then checked to see if Teal’c was following. He wasn’t. “I said follow my lead, Teal’c, not look at me like I’ve grown a second head.” Surely hand-licking wasn’t that weird? From the corner of his eye he saw Daniel looking weirded-out too. Come on! Surely Daniel had done tequila shots before? After decades in a student environment, he had to have. Still, time to move on to the next step. “Okay, so then you put salt on your hand.” Again he checked to see if Teal’c was following his instructions. “And you’re still not following my lead, Teal’c.”

“I believe I shall wait until you are done before I do so,” Teal’c said. Pff, where was the fun in that? As soon as Teal’c realised the lemon slice had to be sucked, he’d bow out. And he really wanted to know what Teal’c thought of the tequila, even if it didn’t have an effect on him.

He glared at Teal’c, and got himself a glass to continue the demonstration. Even if Teal’c didn’t do the tequila shot, he would know about this strange Tau’ri custom as well. “Right, so you’ve covered your hand with salt, then you lick off the salt.” And he immediately reached for the glass and the lemon slice. Damn, vile, vile stuff. At least the slice made it better.

“But why the salt and lemons?” Teal’c asked with his eyebrow raised. Yep, Teal’c had definitely filed this under ‘strange Tau’ri customs that make NO sense’.

Daniel pushed a tequila glass towards him. “Have you smelled the tequila? If not, you should.” Smelling tequila? Please, that was the quickest way to convince someone not to drink it!

“It does not smell very pleasant,” Teal’c said, after trying it. He had never seen Teal’c recoil that quickly from something.

He put the slice in his shot glass. “Doesn’t taste very pleasant either.”

Carter of course went with a more scientific explanation. “The salt is to make you thirsty enough to down it, and the lemon is to counter the taste.” He hoped she wouldn’t start talking about taste buds.

“I see. I do not think I want to take part in this. Someone else can have my glass,” Teal’c said, pushing the glass away.

Well, if no one else was going to drink it, he might as well. It would be a shame to let the tequila go to waste. And else Daniel might drink it, and he wasn’t going to let Daniel get too drunk. One of them had to keep a level head if they were going to do any karaoke avoiding. It was for Daniel’s own good.

“I’m not too sure about this, guys, I don’t want to mix my drinks too much,” Daniel said. Now hang on! Teal’c did not get these drinks to let two of them go to waste! One tequila shot never hurt anyone.

“Don’t be such a wimp, Daniel, come here.” Jack grabbed Daniel’s hand, and licked it for him. Avoiding Daniel’s eyes he put salt on it too, and hoped the whole hand-licking hadn’t grossed Daniel out. If Daniel didn’t like Jack licking his hand, he probably didn’t like the idea of Jack licking other bits of Daniel either. “There, you have to do it now, otherwise you’ll look like an idiot with salt on his hand.” Daniel just continued to stare at him like he had two heads.

“On three?” Carter suddenly asked. She must’ve prepared her own hand as well, probably thinking that if she wasn’t fast enough Jack was going to do it for her. Pfsh, like he was going to lick Carter’s hand. “One, two and…”

Nope, tequila did not taste better the second time. He sucked on his lemon a bit longer too, trying to get the taste away. Maybe he should’ve had a beer lined up, although that might’ve been pushing it alcoholwise.

After he’d dumped the lemon slice in the shot glass again, and Teal’c had gone to the bar to return the salt, Carter had put the karaoke book in front of him. “So, what do you think of this one? It’s a classic.” Oh gods, she was still in the ‘let’s suggest embarrassing songs in the hopes they’ll sing it’ stage? What was she thinking? Like he would ever sing Turn Back Time in front of a crowd! He was not that stupid. And he was sure that Daniel wasn’t either.

“Forget it Carter, you and Teal’c do Cher songs all you like, Daniel and I have more taste than that.” And then he slung an arm around Daniel. For some reason. He couldn’t remember thinking he wanted to do that. Well, obviously he wanted to touch Daniel as often as possible, but not so much that it was noticeable. This friendly arm shoulder slinging was not noticeable enough, thank God. But he had to keep his drunken mind in check. He couldn’t just touch Daniel any place he liked. Because those places would be damn noticeable. “Isn’t that right?”
Daniel nodded along with him. Wait a minute, hadn’t he just pretty much agreed to do karaoke? What had he been thinking? Carter moved the karaoke book towards. Oh crap, he had just agreed to do karaoke. Maybe he could plead temporary insanity.

He flipped through the book. Ah, there was the birds suddenly appearing again. Too soppy. He said so to Daniel, who wasn’t responding. Oh dear. Daniel must be really upset if he wasn’t replying. “And this is just too stupid.” Like he was going to sing "Waterloo"! And "Hit Me Baby One More Time"? Puh-lease. “Too girly…” Daniel still wasn’t talking. Yep, definitely angry. He just patted him on the shoulder. The Divinyls? "I Touch Myself?" Oh yeah, he did that a LOT but he wasn’t going to sing about it in public. His sad pathetic sex life was his own, thankyouverymuch. And singing it with the person he thought about. Nuh uh. Not ever. “Too soppy again.” He didn’t like Daniel being this quiet. “Daniel? What song do you think we should do? You gotta have an opinion, you’ve done this before.” Maybe Daniel could come up with some genius excuse to get them out of this. The man didn’t have a sky-high IQ for nothing.

The genius just shrugged. “As long as it’s within my range. Which excludes anything done by women.” Oh great, now that was some help.

“Means we don’t get to do "I Got You Babe", too bad,” He said sarcastically. “Come on, there’s got to be something we can do together.” Besides having fantastic hot sex. Oh, wait, that was only in his mind. Dammit. He looked at the book again. How many damn eighties songs did one bar need? Hey, that one was kinda alright. “Oh, how about this one? Sounds just about perfect for us.”

“You want to do 'Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go'?”

“What? No!” The idea that Daniel might think he would even want to do that appalled him. . “How can you think that? No, the one under it.” "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go". Hah. Daniel definitely had had too much to drink. He left Daniel and went to find the karaoke guy.

“Hey there! Were you able to make a choice?” The bartender smiled and took the book.

“Yeah, that one,” Jack said, pointing at "Born To Be Wild".

The bartender looked at the book, and then at Jack again. “Huh, I’d never have imagined someone like you would be a Wham! fan.”

“No! The one underneath!” Dammit, what was it today with people thinking he liked Wham!?

Upon his return, he heard Carter mention Whitney Houston. “What did I hear? Is Carter going to sing a Whitney Houston song?” Because if she was, he was really going to have a talk with the bartenders, see if they didn’t have a recorder.

“No,” Carter replied. “Daniel is.” Oh! That would work too.

“Daniel? Why, I’d never thought you were a fan! Figured you were more the Mariah Carey type, y’know, "All I Want For Christmas". You can frolic in the snow.” He bet Daniel would be incredibly adorable frolicking in the snow. There could be a snow fight, and making of snowmen. And afterwards there would be the discarding of the wet clothes and snuggling up in front of a fire with hot cocoa. With rum. And marshmallows.

Daniel glared at him for that. What? Didn’t he like snow? “Well, I’m just happy they don’t have opera karaoke.”

Oh, sure, throw the opera thing in his face! “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” He said, deciding to just ignore it. “Come on Daniel, get another drink. Can’t have you parched for our big number.” And get more drunk too! Let’s see you without inhibitions!

~~~

"Born To Be Wild" was a lot more difficult than he remembered. And he would’ve sworn the lyrics were different too. Still, at least Daniel wasn’t tons better than he was. He would say they were about equally bad. And it also proved his point that the audience loved drunken karaoke singers, since they applauded wildly and demanded an encore. Daniel didn’t seem to want to do one, and Daniel dragged him back to his seat where their team-mates were doing their version of howling with laughter. Teal’c was just smiling, but Carter actually had tears on her face.

“I’m glad you were amused,” Daniel said crankily. Ouch. Sounded like Daniel didn’t much like the enforced karaoke. Oh dear, he had a lot of making up to do from the sounds of it.

“If only I had brought a camera with me,” Carter said. “The blackmail material would last me for ages.” You and me both! And surely the sight of Carter and Teal’c doing ‘I Got You Babe’ was way better blackmail material than their horrible version of ‘Born To Be Wild’?

And besides, like Carter would ever beat him when it came to being sneaky and evil. “I doubt it, I have my ways.” He made some hopefully spooky hand movements, but he could tell that Carter wasn’t impressed.

“I’m sure you do, sir,” Carter said, and snorted. Then she checked her watch, and was obviously surprised. “I think it’s time I get myself home.”

Jack checked his own watch. It was only half past one! That was nowhere near late. For Teal’c however, it was. Looked like it was just him and Daniel staying. Well, that suited him just fine.

Jack waved as the two left to get a cab, and was surprised to find Daniel putting a glass in front of him. Had Daniel finally decided to get his friend something to drink? Things were looking up! “Here, drink this.” He certainly did. Don’t let it be said that he wouldn’t take advice, as long as it was sound advice.

He took a big gulp, and put it down in disappointment. “This is water. Not alcohol.”

Daniel just kept standing besides him, looking over his glasses like he was some sort of stern schoolteacher. Mmm, that was a new fantasy. It had potential. “You had enough alcohol for one night, I think. And so have I.” Well, Daniel certainly had had enough alcohol. If he was anywhere near sober, he wouldn’t have done the karaoke!

“No such thing as too much alcohol.” It was a great way of dealing with Daniel. At least if he was drunk and did stupid things like touching Daniel inappropriately he had an excuse. He finished the water anyway, to make Daniel happy. “Why’re you so worried anyway?”

“Because I’ll be sharing a cab with you to make sure you get home alright, and I don’t want you vomiting all over me,” Daniel replied.

That was entirely the driver’s fault. No corner should ever be done in the fourth gear, he was sure of it. “That happened once! Once! Years ago. Are you going to hold that against me forever?” He’d rather have Daniel hold other things against him. Like oh, maybe himself? But that would involve Daniel getting a clue and he didn’t see that happen anytime soon.

“Considering that I had to pay the cab driver extra to cover the cleaning, and that my shirt has never been same since, I think that yes, I will hold it against you. If I die again, I will haunt you so I can remind you of it. Come on, let’s go,” Daniel said, and got their jackets.

The thought of Daniel dying didn’t make him very happy. But at least Daniel said he was going to visit him, which was sort of a positive thing again. Although ghosts couldn’t really touch each other, could they?

When they got outside, Jack noticed the complete lack of cabs. “So, get a cab then.” Not that he expected Daniel to conjure up a cab from nowhere, but it was Daniel’s idea to leave the bar, so it was Daniel’s responsibility to get them a cab. That was logic.

“It’s not my fault if we have to wait a while,” Daniel argued.

Jack had to admit that it wasn’t, but it still wasn’t fair on them. It was rather chilly outside. “I could go back in and get another drink. The beer’s good.” He huddled deeper into his jacket. “Would keep out the cold too.”

“You only think it keeps out the cold. But you’re still cold. You just don’t really feel it,” Daniel replied, looking anxiously up and down the street. Still no cabs.

So, getting more alcohol wasn’t a good plan. “So… I’m still cold even though I don’t know it?” Because then he would need another plan to get warm. Let’s see… basic survival skills, how to get warm. Of course! Body heat! If Daniel said something about it later on, he would use his ‘I was drunk and I had no idea of what I was doing’ excuse. It was brilliant, and foolproof.

“Yes,” Daniel said, as Jack snuck up and held him tightly. Yep, he was feeling warmer already. “What! What’re you doing?” Wasn’t it obvious?

“Sharing body heat,” He informed Daniel. “You’re cold, I’m cold, we just don’t know it. So let’s get warm!” And if Daniel didn’t like the snuggling to get warm, he had some other ideas lined up.

Daniel started fidgeting in his grasp. Why? He didn’t really seem to be struggling to get out, which he took as a good sign. “Jack, I need to call a cab, can you let go so I can get my phone?”

What? Let go? Now that he had Daniel finally in his arms and a good excuse? He didn’t think so. Plus, this cell phone hunt sounded like another good excuse for touching Daniel. “But I’d get cold! What pocket is it in? I’ll get it for you.” Please say trouser pocket, please say trouser pocket. Front or back, he didn’t much care.

“Inside pocket of my coat, it’s on the left,” Daniel replied. Dammit. No groin groping.

“Your left or my left?” He asked, and started unzipping the coat. As he asked it, he realised what a stupid question it was. Crap! He didn’t want Daniel thinking he was a complete idiot. Still, it definitely showed how drunk he was. All the more reason for Daniel to believe the excuse if he had to use it.

“It doesn’t matter! Your left and my left are the same!” Crap, Daniel really did think he was that stupid. Well, he’d blame the alcohol for that. “You’re right behind me, any closer and you’d be in this jacket with me!”

“Now there’s an idea!” Wait, had he said that out loud? Whoops.

“No! No it’s not! It’s a very bad idea!” Daniel started struggling to get away, but Jack held on anyway. He was going to get that cell phone, even if it killed him.

“Keep still Daniel,” He said. “I can’t get your cell phone if you keep moving.”

Daniel slumped against Jack, probably in defeat. “Just make it quick, Jack. I don’t want to stand here all evening.” Well, tough luck. Jack was more than happy to stand here in the cold all evening if it meant he could feel up his linguist’s upper body like this. He should’ve used the ‘I was drunk!’ excuse before. It was working very well.

“I’ve got ya, Daniel,” Jack said. “Now, where’s that pocket of yours? Are you sure you have an inside pocket at all? I can’t find it.” And certainly not for lack of trying. Jack was pretty sure he had felt everywhere. Hmm, maybe he should try searching the inside of the jacket rather than Daniel’s chest.

Daniel snapped at him. “I think I know my own jacket.”

Damn, Daniel was getting annoyed with it now. He’d better find the cell phone before Daniel bit his head off. “I think I got… oh wait, that’s a pen.” He felt Daniel shiver. That decided it, if Daniel was getting cold, it wasn’t worth it. He felt a big lump, that must be it. It couldn’t be another pen. “I think… yes! Got it!” He gave Daniel the cell phone and zipped up the jacked, then backed off. “Thanks for the body heat,” He said cheerfully. Hopefully Daniel would get warm again now, without his jacket open.

And rather then getting them a cab, Daniel just stared at him strangely. Yep, the snuggling had weirded Daniel out. Curses. He would have to change the subject. Ah! Right, cabs. “Aren’t you gonna call us a cab? I thought you didn’t want to spend the night outside?”

“Oh, yes, right.”

Jack watched as Daniel dialled the cab company and tried to listen in on the conversation but he couldn’t really figure it out. “What did they say?”

Daniel looked rather annoyed. “There’ll be one here in ten minutes.”

Jack figured that Daniel was annoyed because of the snuggling, and resolved not to hug him again, but when the cab approached he decided to do it anyway, just to annoy Daniel a little bit more. Oh, wait, he had a plan to be nice to Daniel. Well, hugging was nice, wasn’t it?

“Not now, Jack, the cab’s here!” Daniel hissed. Jack looked at the cab driver and grinned. “He’s drunk.” Like the driver hadn’t realised that by now. He got out, and helped Daniel to get Jack into the car. Oh, please, like he couldn’t get himself into a car! He allowed Daniel to push him against the other window.

He listened to the cab driver warning Daniel about vomiting. Hmpf, he hadn’t had that much. “How much did he have?”

“Too much.” Sure, from Daniel’s POV maybe.

“Not nearly enough! Really, he dragged me out before it got good. He’s such, a,” Words could not describe what Doctor Jackson was. A damn tease, maybe? “A crap friend, that’s what he is.”

“Really? Well, friends don’t let friends drink way too much,” The driver said. What did he know? “From the looks of it, he’s a good friend.”

Jack glared at Daniel as he looked smug. “Well, I’m an all or nothing kinda guy. I don’t buy that two out of three ain’t bad crap.” He really didn’t. Just a random example here: Say Daniel was naked and conscious in his bed. That was good, right? But he still wasn’t willing, which was sort of the key to good sex. And what if Daniel was willing and naked, but not conscious? That wouldn’t get them anywhere either! And as for willing and conscious, well, that could work, but clothes still got in the way. So really, two out of three did not work. He had leaned over, and decided to get back to being snugly and put his head on Daniel’s shoulder. It was surprisingly comfy. “Hey, your shoulder is comfy, you know that? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Daniel muttered that he had never asked. Well, it wasn’t exactly the sort of thing you asked in a normal conversation. “Well, I wonder what other parts of you are comfortable.” Let’s see… what other part of Daniel would be comfortable as well? The legs? He petted Daniel’s thigh. Oh yeah, that felt very comfortably. “The legs don’t feel that bad either.”

He heard the cab driver snort at that derisively when he closed his eyes. The driver could think what he wanted. He had his head on Daniel’s shoulder, and his hands in his lap. He was pretty happy.

He must’ve dozed off, because the next thing he remembered was the cab stopping suddenly. “We there?”

“Yeah, we are,” Daniel said, and helped Jack out of the car. The short nap hadn’t really done him any good. He just wanted more sleep, and was feeling a little grouchy.

“Ah, my place!” He walked into the kitchen. Maybe another drink would get him back to normal. “You can go now, Daniel.” And it was probably for the best anyway. He had done quite a lot of inappropriate touching, and the ‘I was drunk!’ excuse was probably stretching it. He didn’t think it would cover, say, kissing Daniel suddenly. And he wouldn’t put it past himself to go and do that. He obviously wasn’t thinking with his right brain now.

Daniel had followed him into the kitchen. “No more booze, Jack, you had plenty.”

What did Daniel know about Jack getting plenty? Daniel wasn’t the one who needed to be drunk so he had an excuse to touch his friend. Daniel could just touch Jack and it wasn’t weird at all. Not that Daniel ever did. “Hey, I told you to leave, you didn’t listen. Now I’m not going to listen to you. Just leave me and my beer alone, Daniel, I’ll be fine.” He certainly would be, after he finished this beer and got into bed. Alone. And wake up alone. And miserable, no doubt.

Daniel didn’t budge. “Jack, drinking more beer isn’t going to make you fine. You need to get some sleep, go to bed.”

Good idea Daniel! Let’s go to bed! Except… obviously not together. That would actually make Jack’s life better, wouldn’t it? Can’t have that. “Fine.” He walked into the living room and let himself fall on his sofa. “Fine, you want me less drunk, you make me coffee then.”

Coffee isn’t going to make you better, Jack. It just dehydrates your brain, making the inevitable hangover much worse. You just think you feel better,” Daniel replied from the kitchen.

Couldn’t the man just do one thing Jack asked him? Just once? “Is this like the alcohol and cold thing again?” Because that had sounded a bit too much like science. “Daniel, if I wanted to talk about scientific things, I’d have taken Carter home.” And no doubt she would’ve bored his mind with explaining some of her latest research. What the hell had he been thinking, flirting with her like that? It was a good thing Hammond hadn’t caught on. Sure, Carter was attractive, and nice and smart and all those nice qualities, but she was Carter. He didn’t think they could have much of a relationship if he kept calling her Carter and she kept calling him ‘Sir’. Although those sort of bedroom games could be a turn on, he supposed. With the right person.

“I’ll just get you some water then,” The right person said.

What, more water? Geez, he wasn’t a fish or something. “No, no more water. I’ve had plenty of water today.”

“I’ll just make some lemonade then,” Daniel called out.

Did Daniel even know where he kept the lemonade? Maybe he should help him. And maybe already apologise for all the stupid things he had done. Like the karaoke. And the snuggling. And the feeling up during the snuggling. That was incredibly inappropriate. He couldn’t wait to get another chance. He sighed, and got up from the couch and walked into his kitchen. He was about to say something when Daniel turned around and then stepped back, obviously startled. He decided not to say anything after all when Daniel spilled the lemonade on his shirt.

“Dammit, why did you sneak up to me?” Daniel asked.

Oh sure, blame it on him! It wasn’t his fault Daniel was easily startled. “I can’t sneak around in my own kitchen?”

Daniel just shoved the glasses into Jack’s hand, and started taking the shirt off. “Here, drink that. I’ll go put this in the laundry basket.” Jack just nodded. Sure, drink, laundry whatever. There was skin on display here! Daniel looked up from studying the shirt, and caught Jack staring. Crap. Could he blame this on the drunkenness? “What? Is it that odd that I want to put my shirt in the laundry basket? You know about laundry right? It’s what most people normally do with their dirty clothes.”

Good! Daniel obviously thought he was being stupid. “I know all about laundry, Daniel.” What the hell? That hadn’t even made sense! He shook his head as he walked back to the sofa. Today was not his sense-making day. “What?” He asked, when he noticed Daniel was looking at him expectantly.

“Laundry. Basket. For the shirt!” Oh, right. The shirt. Which Daniel was not wearing right now. Wouldn’t be wearing for a while if Jack had a say in it. Not that he had anything against the shirt, he just had a lot against Daniel in a shirt.

“Oh, it’s in the hallway, I think.” And if it wasn’t, it was probably near the hallway. And at least he could think somewhat normally without the shirtless Daniel around. He put one glass on the table and started to drink his lemonade, or what was left of it. Hmm, bit too sweet, but not all bad. He emptied it, and by the time he put it back on the table, Daniel was back, shirtlessly. And he joined Jack on the sofa, still shirtless. Then he shirtlessly finished the lemonade, and Jack told himself that there were other things to think about Daniel that weren’t shirtless. There was annoying, for one. And gorgeous. And sexy. And shirtless. He wasn’t really getting anywhere with that train of thought.

“I hope you do your laundry some time tomorrow.”

Laundry? “Hmm?” Why the hell would he want to do laundry if he could Jack around being all shirtless? Better to change the subject again. “Oh, look, lemonade.”

“I think it’s time we called it a night, Jack. We’d better get you to bed.” We? Bed? Oh, he should be so lucky!

He picked up the glasses. “Yes mom,” He said, and walked into the kitchen. Hmm, less steadier than he would’ve preferred. Still, he had had a couple of drinks, he had a good excuse. He looked at Daniel, who still shirtlessly sitting on the sofa. “Well? You coming?” Once again, Jack should be so lucky to be involved in that. “I distinctly heard a ‘we’ there.”

Daniel didn’t look too happy at that. “Fine, fine. I didn’t know you were in such a hurry to go to bed.”

What did Daniel want? Did he want Jack safely in bed or not? “I thought you’d be happy I was taking your advice,” Jack said, as Daniel slung his arm around his shirtless shoulder. He figured he might as well go further with the inappropriate touching. Daniel hadn’t actually complained about any of it that much so far. He let his arm fall to Daniel’s waist, which was nice. But there was a very tempting ass in the vicinity, and he couldn’t pass that up, could he? Just a brief brush Daniel would never even notice.

They arrived at Jack’s bedroom before he got the chance to do it again, and as soon as Daniel opened the door, he let himself fall on the bed. “Comfy. Very comfy.” Maybe he could convince Daniel to experience the comfiness with him? Daniel must be sleepy too by now.

“Hey, Jack?” Daniel asked from somewhere behind him, and Jack turned to look at him. He only moved his head. Anything else involved too much effort. “You got the guestroom ready?” Damn! The guestroom.

“Hmmrf?” He replied. He had to keep to Daniel out of the guestroom. “Guestroom?” He bought himself some time to think. How could he keep Daniel out of the guestroom, and in here?

“Yeah, I don’t want to sleep on the couch. It’s not that comfy, and I’d like to get some sleep tonight.” Good, so Daniel didn’t want the couch at all. Good.

“Guestroom’s… not ready.” Okay, explanation? Right! Laundry! “Blankets’re in the laundry basket downstairs.” He didn’t think Daniel would want to use dirty sheets.

“Well, I can just get them. They can’t be that dirty,” Daniel said, and Jack saw him move to the door.

Dammit! Time to think fast. “The blankets were on top. Well, now your lemonade shirt is. So unless you want sticky sheets and blankets, you can’t use those.” He hoped Daniel didn’t mind sticky sheets TOO much. It would definitely make the sex a bit more difficult. Well, if he ever got to have sex with Daniel, which wasn’t very likely from the looks of it. Still, a man could dream. And fantasise. Damn, had he fantasised. Especially about the result of his next question. “You can share with me. No problem. It’s a big bed.” He moved to make room, and took off his shoes. Those would only get in the way. . “See? Plenty of space. As long as you don’t hog blankets.”

“I never had any complaints,” Daniel relied. Good! He wasn’t saying no.

“Good! There’re some sweats in the drawer over there, and throw me one too.” He was working on getting his shirt off. Why had he picked this shirt again? “Damn buttons!” What idiot invented buttons anyway? Zippers were more practical.

He felt something drop on the bed beside him as he tried to pull the shirt over his head. Dammit dammit dammit, he wasn’t even able to take off his own clothes! Stupid shirt. Stupid drinks. If he hadn’t been so drunk he might’ve been able to take off the shirt with a little bit more grace. That would’ve been nice. “Damn stupid good for nothing shirt!” He muttered grumpily, and finally managed to get it over his head. He threw it on the floor, next to his shoes. “Bad shirt! Bad!” He was never going to wear it again. Ever.

He watched Daniel grab another pair of sweats as he left for the bathroom. Good, that was Jack could take off his trousers without looking like an idiot. Damn buttons. Hmm, that was odd. The trousers were nowhere near as troublesome as the shirt, and he had changed in no time. Now he was lying in bed, waiting for Daniel to be done in the bathroom. And hopefully, if Daniel hadn’t done some thinking, Daniel would be sharing his bed. Yes!

He was taking a rather long time though. “Daniel? You done in there?” He thought he had seen the door open, but in the dim light from the window he couldn’t be sure.

“Oh? Yeah, sure, I didn’t know you were in any hurry to use the bathroom,” Daniel replied from the hallway. Jack smirked to himself. Oh, he was in no hurry to use the bathroom. As for using Daniel, well, he was in a great hurry.

He told himself to play it cool now. Don’t let Daniel know that you’re desperate to get him into bed. He just moved the blankets to make room for Daniel. “I was waiting for you to be done so I could get some sleep. Can’t sleep if someone’s about to get into bed with you.” He hoped it sounded as normal as he wanted it to be, and rolled over. He didn’t need to see Daniel decide. After all, he was playing it cool. Daniel was taking his sweet time though, and Jack really would like to get some sleep. “You coming or what?” Jack was hoping for the first, but from the looks of it, it was going to be the latter. Dammit.

He felt Daniel crawl into bed with him, and he smiled to himself. That was a promising sign already. “Took your time to get in, Daniel,” He said, hoping it came off as cool. Hmm, mabe he shouldn’t be arranging the blankets more comfortably around Daniel if he was going to play it cool.

“I was just… thinking,” Daniel replied, sounding not too freaked out.

Jack tucked him in some more. “You think too much.” Well, there was the understatement of the century. The only person who could beat Daniel in the thinking stakes was Carter. And he really didn’t want to think about her now that he had Daniel in his bed. And shirtless at that.

He lay down next to Daniel. Yep, he could definitely get used to this. “You look worried.” Was this because of the thinking?

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Daniel said. Which meant that Jack was definitely going to make him talk about it.

“Sure you do! You’re worried, I’m your best friend,” Jack said, and moved closer. “Therefore you tell me your worries.” Daniel moved away. Okay, that was bad. “Daniel? You don’t look very comfortable, what’s wrong?” Jack moved closer again. Maybe he could get Daniel to fall out of the bed. No, that would just be cruel. “Daniel? You don’t look very comfortable, what’s wrong?”

“I thought you wanted to go to sleep?” Daniel moved away again, getting too close to the edge of the bed, and Jack really didn’t want him falling out.

“Dammit, Daniel, you’re worried, you’re uncomfortable and you’re not getting away from me, y’hear?” And with that he snuck an arm around Daniel to pull him closer. Oh, this was nice. This was good. He should’ve done this earlier. His dick was very much in agreeance on that score.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Daniel sulked. There was no other word for it. This was sulking, and Daniel was doing so adorably. Not that Jack was going to tell him that.

So instead, he hugged Daniel closer. “I’ll talk about my worries if you tell me about yours.” And he meant it. He was willing to tell Daniel about his worries, and his desires, but only if Daniel told Jack his. Fair’s fair.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Damn, this was getting repetitive. And Daniel not wanting to talk? That was new.

“You’re not interested in my worries?” Jack asked, doing his best to sound sulky too. Maybe it was cute and adorable on him as well, he wasn’t sure.

“Not right now. I thought you wanted to sleep,” Daniel said. Oh, what did Daniel know about his thoughts? The only thing Jack wanted right now was to get closer and personal with Daniel. Without the damn sweat pants. But how to let Daniel know? Well, Jack had always been a doer rather than a thinker, and he very much wanted to do Daniel. So he decided to just pull Daniel as close as possible and let his dick do the talking.

“Surprise!” Jack said, and hoped Daniel wasn’t freaked out too much. Daniel turned to stare at him. Was that bad? He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t stormed out of the bed and called Hammond to resign. Surely there was a good sign in there somewhere?

And then Daniel rolled over. Surprise right back at you,” He whispered. Oh! Hello, yes. That was a bit of a surprise. Nice, nice surprise though. Jack was sure he’d like it. He let his hands drop to grab Daniel’s ass, who hugged him tightly in return. Aha, that must mean he was doing something right.

What happened if he rubbed his thumb just here? Okay, that had Daniel wriggling against him in an interesting way. “Can’t wait to have you in my bed when you’re sober.” And when he was sober as well. That was quite important too.

“I’m sober enough right now,” Daniel moaned, wriggling in that really interesting way again.

Jack just snorted. “I’m not buying that, Daniel. I know you. You had several beers and a tequila shot. We’re not doing anything more than cuddling.” And then tomorrow, when they were both sober and had an aspirine and some water to counter the hang-over, they would do lots more than cuddling. Although the cuddling was pleasant.

And that had Daniel moving away from him. Bad move. “Jack, you drank twice the amount I did. You did. And you’re telling me I’m not sober enough to have sex?” Jack had only said that because Daniel wasn’t. And he had never said he was sober enough for sex. Even though he was, considering that the proof was poking Daniel in the hip.

“Daniel, I don’t want you to regret this in the morning, okay? I’d feel like I was taking advantage of you,” Jack explained carefully. He hoped Daniel wouldn’t regret this in the morning. He really hoped this wasn’t Daniel being a cheap drunk and getting confused. But he wasn’t going to take that risk. Not with Daniel.

Daniel obviously wasn’t seeing things his way. “Excuse me? Shouldn’t that be the other way around? Seeing as how you’re more drunk than I am? I’d be taking advantage of you if anything, and seeing as how you want me to take advantage of you,” Daniel paused here to emphasise his point with a really very good brush of his groin against Jack’s, “I’m not seeing the problem.”

Jack groaned. From the very good and very brief contact, but also from Daniel not seeing the point here. “Don’t make this harder than this is, Daniel.” Okay, maybe the wrong word there, and he grimaced. “I’m not taking advantage of you. You’re drunk. We’re not having sex, no matter how much we both seem to want it. Wait until the morning.” He was telling this as much to himself as he was to Daniel.

“What if I said I wanted you to take advantage of me? Wrote it black on white? Signed it, filed it in triplicate and everything?” Daniel said. Jack thought that that would make a pretty odd request. ‘Doctor Jackson formally requests that he is being taken advantage of by Col. O’Neill ASAP’. Was that even grammatically correct? Daniel would know. “ Dammit, Jack, I need to get laid, and I need to get laid now!”

Okay. Never mind correct grammar. It was time to be reasonable again, even if his dick demanded otherwise. “I’m sure you feel that way now, Daniel, but things might be different in the morning. Let’s just sleep together first and see what the morning brings, okay?” Jack figured he’d more comfortable on his back, and took Daniel with him. Yeah, this worked. He could definitely sleep like this, with Daniel close to his side and half over him. He could get used to this.

“I don’t want to sleep together, I want to have some damn good sex together,” Daniel argued.

Jack smiled at his obvious frustration, it wasn’t hurting his ego at all to know that Daniel was desperate to get some from him. But it was time to be the older and wiser man once again. “I know you feel that way now, Daniel, but maybe you –”

Okay. Erm. Okay. Daniel was kissing him. That was new. And a surprise. Good surprise. Very, very good surprise. Best surprise ever, really. Damn good kiss. Yes, very good kiss. Mmm, he could do this for a while longer. If only he wasn’t so sleepy. But he had his eyes closed, and he was comfortable, and Daniel was now stealing a few brief kisses. Sure, go ahead, Daniel. He was just going to let his eyes rest for a bit.

Sat, 29 Apr 2006 00:04:37 GMT

Title: Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad (1/2)
Authors: Draco The Lizard and Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: Jack and Daniel go to a karaoke bar, get drunk, and then Jack refuses to sleep with Daniel, infuriating the other man.
Notes: Inspired while Draco was drunk. She wanted to write Emo!Jack, made up an outline, and then reread it and wrote a much better version of what it would have been when she had sobered up. I simply added in the smut and a bit of afterfic. :D
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from our imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away.

Usually, Daniel would have thought that two out of three wasn’t bad. Two out of three people who believed his theories was still a majority. Two out of three questions answered correctly on an exam still got him a pass. In most cases, two out of three was enough. But in this one particular case, two out of three was just plain horrible. 1. He was in bed with Jack. 2. Jack had expressed willingness to have sex with him. So far, so good. 3. Jack also said he wouldn’t have sex with him.

Yes, Daniel was very confused too. And pissy as hell. Where had things gone wrong?

~~~

Teal’c had been the one to suggest that they’d have a team night tonight, to go out for a drink in a bar somewhere. Sam had been quick to agree that it had been a long time, and she had heard of a good bar from Janet. Perhaps they could go there? Jack had caught ‘team’, ‘drink’, ‘bar’ and ‘tonight’ and was all in favour of the plan. He was so in favour of the plan he wanted to put it in action immediately. Daniel had pointed out that it was only around noon, and that they could meet up at the bar at around ten in the evening.

So that what they’d done. Met up around ten, gone in, and got the first drinks. Daniel looked around, it was pleasantly busy and the music was at the right volume. Seemed like Janet knew her bars. Then he noticed the ‘Karaoke Tonight!’ sign. He quickly elbowed Jack and pointed it out to him. Jack’s reaction was to get another beer to go with his half-finished one. “You that thirsty?” Daniel wondered.

“No, but if there’s gonna be karaoke at…” He looked at the sign again. “Eleven, I need to have more beer.”

Sam and Teal’c had noticed the sign and the two beers as well. “Building up courage to sing, sir?”

Jack glared at her. “’Course not. Just building up my ability to not be bothered by the bad singers.”

“You may be pleasantly surprised, O’Neill. Perhaps the people here are better than you expect,” Teal’c said.

“Hah! I know karaoke. It’s all about drunken people singing bad songs drunkenly. And the only way to enjoy it is by being drunk yourself.” And with that, Jack took another big gulp.

“Karaoke is not about being drunk,” Sam said. “It’s about having fun.”

“Yes, and the only way to have karaoke related fun is by being drunk. Trust me. Daniel? You’ve been at university and college half your life. You must’ve been in karaoke bars, students are known for doing it.” Jack nudged Daniel.

“Er, well, I’ve only been in one a couple of times. But yeah, it’s only fun if you’re drunk and the people are bad drunken singers.” He shrugged. “It’s no fun if someone can actually sing well.”

Sam shook her head. “We’ll see who’s right and who has more fun. The two of you trying to get drunk ASAP, or me and Teal’c staying sober.” She looked at her own wine. “Well, more sober at any rate.”

“I am sure I will have a good time in this establishment,” Teal’c declared. “I do not require alcohol for that.”

Jack snorted. “Let’s hear you say that in two hours. Karaoke will have started properly by then, never does until the first drunkards decide to sing. Like I said, no one sober is insane enough to do karaoke.”

Teal’c just raised an eyebrow at that. “We shall see, O’Neill.”

And indeed they saw. They saw Sam and Teal’c get the karaoke book that listed the available songs. Daniel was shocked. He didn’t think Teal’c would want to do it, and Sam didn’t strike him as the type who’d want to sing in front of other people. “You guys aren’t seriously going to sing, are you?”

“Of course we are,” Sam said. “We’re going to prove that sober people can have fun with karaoke too.”

“For crying out loud, Carter, I believe you. I don’t need you and Teal’c singing some crap song to proof it,” Jack said, working on his third beer. There was a fourth beer lined up, which Jack had gotten for Daniel. Strangely enough, it seemed to have migrated from in front of Daniel to in front of Jack. Daniel left it that way. He hadn’t paid for it, and Jack seemed to want it more than he did anyway. Besides, he still had some hopes that a drunken Jack would be an easily persuaded to do karaoke Jack.

“We shall demonstrate nonetheless, O’Neill,” Teal’c said, as he pointed out a song to Sam, who nodded.

“We’ll do that one. It’s perfect.”

Daniel leaned over to see the page. “Which one is it?”

Sam quickly shut the book. “You’ll just have to have patience,” She said with a smile. “But I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” She and Teal’c went to bring the book and to inform the guy in charge of their choice.

When they returned, neither was willing to say which song they had chosen. Teal’c just stayed silent when asked, and Sam stuck with her ‘patience is a virtue’. Jack argued that he never been very virtuous in his life, and that he wasn’t going to start now. Sam replied that that didn’t surprise her in the least, and in the following argument the karaoke song had been forgotten entirely.

At eleven, the karaoke didn’t start with drunkards as Jack had predicted. It started with a girl who did a decent version of some pop song Daniel hadn’t heard of. Next was an elderly couple, probably tourists, who were doing the rather mushy ‘why do birds suddenly appear’ song which probably had a different title Daniel didn’t really care about. They weren’t bad, but he didn’t like mushy soppy lovesongs. Not when his own love life was practically non-existent. He glanced at Jack who was working on the fourth beer he had technically bought for Daniel. Wonderful. The only one he wanted involved in his love life was more focused on drinking himself into a stupor. He wasn’t going to mope or sulk now. He wasn’t. And if he was, he was going to disguise it by getting another drink.

By the time he got back to their table, another couple of people had braved the karaoke machine. “So, when’s your turn?” He asked, wanting to know when his curiosity would be satisfied. It was rather sad that only his curiosity got any satisfaction these days, but he’d take any satisfaction he could get. Maybe he should just get properly drunk, and sing "I Can’t Get No Satisfaction". Maybe that would be enough to get Jack a clue. Then again, seeing how Jack seemed more interested in sneaking sips from Daniel’s beer than in Daniel, he figured that wouldn’t work either. Maybe he should stick to another Stones song. "You Can’t Always Get What You Want". He certainly couldn’t.

He was so engrossed in thinking of another clue that he almost missed the karaoke guy announcing that Sam and Murray would now sing a song. He elbowed Jack, who once again was trying to get Daniel’s beer to migrate to him. “They’re up!”

Sam and Teal’c made their way to the microphone, and Daniel wondered if plugging his ears would be necessary and obvious. Sam had a right punch he didn’t want to be in the way of, and Teal’c wouldn’t be pleased either.

“Dammit, I was hoping it wasn’t their turn yet! Four beers is not enough to deal with friends doing karaoke!” Jack exclaimed, and promptly took a big gulp from Daniel’s beer.

It turned out that plugging wasn’t necessary. Sam and Teal’c did quite well, and Daniel sniggered when he recognised the tune. “’I Got You Babe’,” He said. “Think they’re trying to tell us something?”

Jack snorted. “Doubt it. Still, they’re not bad. Better than some of the others, anyway.”

Daniel had to admit that was true. Sam and Teal’c certainly were doing their best, Sam making doe eyes at Teal’c, and Teal’c had a protective arm around her shoulder.

“Daniel?” Jack asked. “Let’s make a pact. Let’s promise each other that no matter what happens tonight, neither of us is going to come anywhere near that machine.”

Daniel thought about that. Jack doing karaoke would be fun, but he had heard him sing and knew he could only stand that if he were drunk. And he knew that if he were drunk, the chances of him doing karaoke were fairly high. “Sure.” He raised his glass. “To a successful evening of karaoke avoiding.”

~~~

Of course the karaoke avoiding hadn’t worked. Jack’s steady drinking and Daniel’s less steady drinking had made them easier to manipulate, and Sam and Teal’c were doing just that. Teal’c was questioning their courage, saying that if he had the courage to do it, surely Jack and Daniel were brave enough as well. Sam just called them wussies and said that next time she was going to ask Janet along rather than them, claiming that Janet was more fun than them anyway.

Daniel was getting more and more annoyed with it. Surely it wasn’t a sign of courage to make an ass of yourself in front of other people? Sam had already gotten the karaoke book, and was suggesting songs as well, which was just presumptuous of her.

“So, what about My Sharona then? That one’s easy, you just shout Sharona a lot,” Sam said.

“No. No, I am not going to sing. No,” Jack stated. He was drinking from his seventh or eighth beer, Daniel had lost count. He thought Jack was quite coherent for someone who should be quite drunk by now. He was only on his third beer, having had some soda in between.

“How about a deal?” Teal’c asked. “I shall buy the next round of drinks, and you sing a song for us.”

Daniel already wanted to say no, but Jack was more interested in what kind of drinks. “I mean, if you’re just gonna get me more beer, what’s in it for me, y’know?”

Sam leaned over and whispered something in Teal’c ear. “I shall buy you tequila shots.” He promptly said. Sam was grinning widely.

“How about you get us the shots, and then we’ll see how we feel about it,” Jack suggested. Teal’c nodded, and left to get the shots. Sam accompanied him to help carry the salt and the lemon slices.

“Excuse me? You want us to do tequila shots and sing?” Daniel spluttered. Was Jack insane?

“We’re just gonna say no after the shot. Easy. If Teal’c wants to buy us drinks, I’m not stopping him,” Jack said. “I’m all for other people buying me drinks.”

“I noticed,” Daniel grumbled. Maybe if he bought Jack a drink? Not that it’d work now, Jack was a bit too far gone. Besides, Teal’c was buying all of them drinks, and Jack didn’t seem to consider that a come on. And Jack had bought him a beer as well, even though it had ended up in Jack’s stomach. Daniel didn’t think was a come on either, just Jack’s way of telling him to relax a little. But he hardly ever bought Jack a drink, so if he did Jack would notice and maybe get a clue. It was something to keep in mind for the next time they went out.

Teal’c put the glasses on the table, and Sam had the salt and lemons. “Everybody’s done this before?” She asked.

“I have not. What is the use of the lemons and the salt?” Teal’c asked.

“Oh, you’re about to find out what the lemons are for. Just follow my lead,” Jack said, and licked his hand. “I said follow my lead, Teal’c, not look at me like I’ve grown a second head.”

If Teal’c looked surprised, Daniel hadn’t seen it. He was too busy staring at Jack licking his own hand. It was sad, it was pathetic, and yet he did it anyway. And he knew that he would think about it a lot in the privacy of his own bedroom. He was doomed.

“Okay, so then you put salt on your hand.” Jack put some salt on his hand. “And you’re still not following my lead, Teal’c.”

“I believe I shall wait until you are done before I do so,” Teal’c said. Daniel thought that was quite wise, and figured that Teal’c would probably decide not to go ahead with the shot once he found out what the use of the salt and lemon was. Teal’c didn’t like lemon at all.

Jack glared at Teal’c before getting himself a glass. “Right, so you’ve covered your hand with salt, then you lick off the salt –” and Daniel hated himself for sitting up for the licking action, but he did it anyway. Jack licked the salt off, and immediately downed the tequila. He slammed it down, and grabbed the nearest lemon slice.

Teal’c had raised an eyebrow at this flurry of actions. “But why the salt and lemons?” He asked.

“Have you smelled the tequila?” Daniel asked. “If not, you should.”

Teal’c leaned over to smell, and immediately recoiled. “It does not smell very pleasant.”

“Doesn’t taste very pleasant either,” Jack said once he was done with the lemon.

“The salt is to make you thirsty enough to down it, and the lemon is to counter the taste,” Sam explained.

“I see. I do not think I want to take part in this. Someone else can have my glass,” Teal’c said, shoving his glass to the centre of the table.

Jack immediately grabbed it, and a lemon slice. “If you don’t want it, I will.”

Daniel wanted to say something to stop him, as Jack seemed to be drinking way too much in his opinion, but Sam didn’t seem very concerned whereas she normally was, and if there was going to be more licking of hands, well, Daniel was okay with that. He wasn’t too sure of his own involvement though. Tequila didn’t really agree with him. Actually, his problem was that it agreed a little too well with him. He had done shots back in his student days, and it always seemed to make him far drunker than anyone else. “I’m not too sure about this, guys, I don’t want to mix my drinks too much.”

“Don’t be such a wimp, Daniel, come here.” Before Daniel realised what was going on, Jack had licked his hand and put salt on it. “There, you have to do it now, otherwise you’ll look like an idiot with salt on his hand.”

Daniel just stared at his hand and at Jack. Who had just licked his hand. His hand. Daniel’s hand. He was happy he wasn’t the type who fainted when slightly excited, because he’d be on the floor if he was. Jack just grinned and put a shot glass in front of Daniel, with a lemon slice.

Sam had taken care of her own hand and was ready to go as well. “On three?” She proposed. “One, two and…”

Daniel quickly licked his hand and downed the tequila. Damn, that stuff was revolting. The lemon didn’t help much, but it was something. Sam and Jack were done with the lemon before he was, but he refused to be bothered by it. He just had Jack lick his hand, he needed the reality check of sucking a lemon.

Sam opened the karaoke book again, and Teal’c returned the saltshaker to the barman. “So, what do you think of this one? It’s a classic.”

“Forget it, Carter, you and Teal’c do Cher songs all you like, Daniel and I have more taste than that,” Jack said, and slung an arm around Daniel’s shoulders. “Isn’t that right?”

Daniel spat out his lemon slice and just nodded. He didn’t even notice that Jack had basically just agreed to doing karaoke on his behalf until Sam shoved the book in front of them, expecting them to pick out a song.

Jack kept the arm around Daniel, and used the other to flip through the book. Daniel was a bit too distracted by the touchy feelyness to really see what songs were being rejected.

“Too soppy, too stupid. Too girly… too soppy again. Daniel? What song do you think we should do? You gotta have an opinion, you’ve done this before,” Jack said.

Daniel shrugged. “As long as it’s within my range. Which excludes anything done by women.”

“Means we don’t get to do I Got You Babe, too bad,” Jack said, mock-sad. “Come on, there’s got to be something we can do together.”

Daniel knew lots of things they could do together. Just not in public. The privacy of his bedroom, or Jack’s bedroom would do, he wasn’t picky. Just so long as the things were done in someone’s bedroom. Although he was willing to be flexible re the location. Daniel was a reasonable man. He knew that the shower stall had its advantages. Couches and comfy chairs were suitable as well, but for what Daniel had in mind, the bedroom would be best.

“Oh, how about this one? Sounds just about perfect for us,” Jack said, pointing at a song.

Daniel looked at the title. “You want to do Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go?” Because if Jack did, Daniel would have to question his sanity.

“What? No!” Jack said indignantly. “How can you think that? No, the one under it.”

Born To Be Wild. Well, it would be better than Wham! Daniel thought. “Okay.” Wait, he just said okay. He had just okay to doing karaoke. What the hell was he thinking?

Jack closed the book, and went to find the karaoke guy. Naturally, Sam was wondering what they were going to sing, and naturally Daniel refused to tell. “Patience is a virtue, remember?”

Sam scowled at that. “Fine. If you and the Colonel want to surprise us, go ahead. We’ll just have to guess, won’t we Teal’c?”

“Indeed. I guess they have chosen a Whitney Houston song,” Teal’c replied.

Sam giggled at that. “Oh, I’d pay good money to see either of you sing I Will Always Love You.”

“Wrong, sorry. And no amount of money will ever have me sing that,” Daniel said. Did they think he had no taste in music whatsoever?

“Ah, but what if there are aliens on a planet who’re big fans somehow,” Sam argued, “And that the only way of getting a treaty to trade naquadah with them is by having you sing I Will Always Love You?”

“Ignoring the fact that that’s pretty much impossible, I would have to say that I would try to talk my way out of it,” Daniel said, after sniggering at the idea. “And I would probably talk to the aliens into having you do it instead.”

Sam smiled at that. “If that ever happens, I hope they also some wine or something. I’d never attempt Whitney Houston sober.”

Jack slid back onto his seat. “What did I hear? Is Carter going to sing a Whitney Houston song?”

“No,” Sam replied. “Daniel is.”

“Daniel? Why, I’d never thought you were a fan! Figured you were more the Mariah Carey type, y’know, All I Want For Christmas. You can frolic in the snow.” Jack said, sipping from the beer he had brought with him.

Daniel glowered quietly for a minute. “Well, I’m just happy they don’t have opera karaoke.”

“I think we are all happy they do not have such a thing,” Teal’c said, eyeing Jack meaningfully.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said innocently. “Come on Daniel, get another drink. Can’t have you parched for our big number.”

~~~

It wasn’t too bad, and over before Daniel knew it. True, Jack seemed to be yodelling halfway through the song rather than singing, but Daniel wasn’t much better either. There was laughter afterwards, and some applause and cries for an encore, but Daniel wisely ignored that and dragged Jack back to his seat. Sam was crying with laughter, and Teal’c was smiling.

“I’m glad you were amused,” Daniel said as he sat down.

“If only I had brought a camera with me,” Sam grinned. “The blackmail material would last me for ages.”

“I doubt it,” Jack said. “I have my ways.” He moved his hands vaguely in a manner that was meant to be threatening.

“I’m sure you do, sir,” Sam said, and looked at her watch. She was obviously surprised to see how late it was. “I think it’s time I get myself home.”

Teal’c checked his watch too and nodded. “I shall accompany you, MajorCarter. We can share a cab.”

Sam nodded at that. “Are you going home as well?”

“In a while. I think I’ll try to get Jack a bit more sober before we attempt to leave,” Daniel said.

“Good luck with that then,” Sam said, and with that the other two left the bar after saying goodbye to Jack.

Daniel got himself and Jack a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”

Jack obediently did, but put it down after one gulp. “This is water,” He complained. “Not alcohol.”

“You had enough alcohol for one night, I think. And so have I,” Daniel said.

“No such thing as too much alcohol,” Jack muttered, but finished the water anyway. “Why’re you so worried anyway?”

“Because I’ll be sharing a cab with you to make sure you get home alright, and I don’t want you vomiting all over me,” Daniel replied.

“That happened once!” Jack argued. “Once! Years ago. Are you going to hold that against me forever?”

“Considering that I had to pay the cab driver extra to cover the cleaning, and that my shirt has never been same since, I think that yes, I will hold it against you. If I die again, I will haunt you so I can remind you of it.” Daniel got up and put on his jacket. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jack followed him sullenly. “So, get a cab then.” He elbowed Daniel.

“It’s not my fault if we have to wait a while,” He muttered.

“I could go back in and get another drink,” Jack said dreamily. “The beer’s good.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Would keep out the cold too.”

“You only think it keeps out the cold,” Daniel replied. Why weren’t there cabs at this time of night? Really. “But you’re still cold. You just don’t really feel it.”

“So… I’m still cold even though I don’t know it?” Jack asked.

“Yes.” Maybe he should just call for a damn taxi rather than wait around here. He reached for his cell phone when suddenly Jack wrapped him in a bear hug. “What! What’re you doing?”

“Sharing body heat,” Jack said smugly. “You’re cold, I’m cold, we just don’t know it. So let’s get warm!”

Daniel sighed, and continued to search for his cell phone. He couldn’t get it out of his jacket what with the ‘body heat sharing’ Jack was doing. Nice words for what Daniel considered cruel and unusual torture. “Jack, I need to call a cab, can you let go so I can get my phone?”

“But I’d get cold!” Jack argued, and snuggled closer. There was no other word for it, this was definite snuggling. “What pocket is it in? I’ll get it for you.”

Daniel was pretty much dumbfounded by all this. He was tempted to say it was in the left front pocket of his trousers, but knowing a drunken Jack he’d reach into the pocket anyway. And Daniel didn’t want to deal with that right now. “Inside pocket of my coat, it’s on the left.”

“Your left or my left?” Jack asked as he unzipped the coat.

“It doesn’t matter! Your left and my left are the same!” Daniel exclaimed. “You’re right behind me, any closer and you’d be IN this jacket with me!”

“Now there’s an idea!” Jack said excitedly, cell phones forgotten.

“No! No it’s not! It’s a very bad idea!” Daniel exclaimed, trying to wrestle his way out of the snuggling, but Jack held on stubbornly.

“Keep still Daniel, I can’t get your cell phone if you keep moving,” Jack argued.

“Just make it quick, Jack. I don’t want to stand here all evening,” Daniel said. He wanted to go home, get into bed and pretend that a drunken touchy feely Jack meant something. Jack had better hurry up and find his cell phone. He slumped against Jack in defeat.

“I’ve got ya, Daniel, now, where’s that pocket of yours?” Jack was pretty much feeling everywhere but at Daniel’s pocket. “Are you sure you have an inside pocket at all? I can’t find it.”

“I think I know my own jacket,” Daniel snapped. Dammit, why did he have to suffer from an annoyingly snugly Jack who was just… touching him everywhere? And why couldn’t he just enjoy the touching rather than thinking ‘he’s only doing this ‘cause he’s a crazy drunk, Daniel, a sober Jack would never be all over you like this’. Why did he have to be rational all the damn time? He couldn’t even enjoy a drunken grope without feeling slightly guilty. Well, why should he feel guilty? Jack was molesting him, not the other way round. He wasn’t taking advantage of anyone here, and technically Jack was taking advantage of him. And Daniel found that he was very much in favour of that. And if Jack was embarrassed the next morning and felt guilty, that was fine. Not the preferable outcome, but a guilty Jack would be a Jack who would buy Daniel lunch. So it was a win win situation. If a drunken Jack wanted to grope, Daniel was fine with it. Either tomorrow morning Jack would want to do more groping, or Jack would feel so guilty he’d buy Daniel’s lunches for a month.

Too bad Daniel’s conscience wasn’t being that rational. His guilt kept saying that there was no way a sober Jack would want to grope any part of Daniel, and that Daniel owed it to his friend to stop him. And his conscience was already feeling guilty over possibly guilting Jack into buying him lunch.

As Daniel pondered this, Jack continued his quest for Daniel’s ever elusive cell phone. “I think I got… oh wait, that’s a pen,” He muttered, the hot breath on his neck making Daniel shiver. “I think… yes! Got it!” He handed Daniel the cell phone triumphantly, and zipped up Daniel’s jacket. “Thanks for the body heat,” He said, and backed off.

Daniel just stared at Jack for a moment, cell phone in hand. One minute Jack was all over him, the other moment he couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Typical.

“Aren’t you gonna call us a cab? I thought you didn’t want to spend the night outside?”

“Oh, yes, right,” Daniel quickly dialed the cab company, and heard that it would ten minute for the cab to arrive. Oh crap. Ten more minutes outside with an unpredictable Jack.

“What did they say?” Jack asked when Daniel hung up.

“There’ll be one here in ten minutes,” Daniel said morosely. The next ten minutes would be hell. Either Jack would get snugly again, or not, and Daniel would never know when the snuggling would happen. Or if it would happen, but the chance was there. Maybe he should just spare himself the mental torture and start the snugliness himself. Fake the drunk thing and grope Jack back. It was a tempting thought, but his conscience wouldn’t let him do it. ‘Molesting Jack would be wrong!’ It argued. Wrong, and oh so much fun. Oh well.

~~~

Nothing eventful had happened in the ten minutes they were waiting, except that Jack kept mentioning food, which made Daniel hungry as well. He was happy when he saw the cab approach, and so was Jack. Jack decided to express this happiness by hugging Daniel tightly. “Not now, Jack, the cab’s here!” Daniel hissed. The cab driver was looking at them strangely. Daniel looked as annoyed as possible. “He’s drunk.”

The cab driver nodded, and opened the door for Daniel so he could push Jack in. “If he pukes, you have to…”

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll cost me, I know,” Daniel said. He was less than happy. He gave the driver Jack’s address, which shouldn’t take them too long. He had pushed Jack to lean against the other window, so he could have some personal space at last.

“How much did he have?” The cab driver inquired, still a bit worried.

“Too much,” Daniel replied.

“Not nearly enough!” Jack said. “Really, he dragged me out before it got good. He’s such, a, a, crap friend, that’s what he is.”

“Really? Well, friends don’t let friends drink way too much. From the looks of it, he’s a good friend,” The cab driver said.

Daniel looked smugly at Jack, who just snorted. “Two out of three think I’m a good friend, Jack. That’s pretty good.”

Jack leaned over. “Well, I’m an all or nothing kinda guy. I don’t buy that two out of three ain’t bad crap.” He put his head on Daniel’s shoulder. “Hey, your shoulder is comfy, you know that? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Daniel shared a look with the cab driver, who was more amused than Daniel was. “You never asked.”

“Huh,” Jack grunted. “Well, I wonder what other parts of you are comfortable.” He patted Daniel’s thigh. “The legs don’t feel that bad either.”

Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, Daniel chanted in his head. Don’t you dare put your head in my lap, don’t you fucking dare.

The cab driver snorted at that. “He’s pretty far gone. Hey, you need my uncle’s special recipe to get people sober? It doesn’t really work but it’s revolting.”

“I think I can manage that by myself, thanks though,” Daniel replied, still chanting the don’t don’t don’t.

“Well, I hope you know what you’re doing,” The cab driver said.

The rest of the journey was carried out in silence. Daniel figured Jack must’ve fallen asleep, head on Daniel’s shoulder, hands in Daniel’s lap. Daniel left it that way. He didn’t want to risk waking him for something this trivial. And so long as Jack wasn’t awake he wouldn’t feel the effect he was having on Daniel. He tried to rationalise it. It was just Jack’s head on his shoulder. It was just Jack’s hands in his lap. It was just Jack’s hands in his lap, and it was just his erection, and the two were way too close for comfort.

When the cab stopped in front of Jack’s house, Jack suddenly jerked away. “We there?” He muttered sleepily.

“Yeah, we are,” Daniel said, and paid the cab driver. It was a bit of a struggle to get Jack out of the cab, parts of him were still asleep but he managed to get Jack inside the house at last.

“Ah, my place!” Jack announced, and went into the kitchen. “You can go now, Daniel.”

What? What!? Stupid damn snuggling outside a stupid damn bar and inside a stupid damn cab, and that was it? Thank you for getting me home safely, now fuck off? No way that was going to happen. Besides, from the way Jack was moving around in that kitchen, Daniel guessed he was getting yet another drink. He threw his jacket over a chair, and entered the kitchen. “No more booze, Jack, you had plenty.”

“Hey, I told you to leave, you didn’t listen. Now I’m not going to listen to you. Just leave me and my beer alone, Daniel, I’ll be fine,” Jack replied, beer in hand.

Daniel sighed. “Jack, drinking more beer isn’t going to make you fine. You need to get some sleep, go to bed.” Ah, Jack. Bed. Wonderful combination. Too bad Daniel wasn’t a part of it. Ho hum, such was life.

Jack grumbled something. “Fine,” He put the opened bottle back in the fridge. “Fine, you want me less drunk, you make me coffee then.” He went to the living room, leaving Daniel.

“Coffee isn’t going to make you better, Jack. It just dehydrates your brain, making the inevitable hangover much worse,” Daniel said. “You just think you feel better.”

Jack had made himself comfortable on the sofa. “Is this like the alcohol and cold thing again? Daniel, if I wanted to talk about scientific things, I’d have taken Carter home.”

Daniel smiled at that. At least Jack preferred his company to that of Sam’s. That had to mean something, considering how they had been mooning after each other a while ago. He could see what they saw in each other, hell, he was seeing it in Jack right now. And Sam was an attractive and intelligent women. He just couldn’t see them in a long-term relationship. Jack needed someone who shared his sense of humour, and Sam needed someone who understood her passion for science. He figured that Sam would get fed up with Jack’s disinterest sooner rather than later, and would probably shove a naquadah reactor down his throat if he made another crack about her pet projects. “I’ll just get you some water then.”

“No, no more water. I’ve had plenty of water today,” Jack said grumpily.

Daniel didn’t know why Jack’s mood had changed. He seemed fine in the cab. Well, not fine. Apart from the weird snuggling he was fine. “I’ll just make some lemonade then.” He went back in the kitchen, and searched the fridge for lemonade, and the cupboards for some glasses. He didn’t know how Jack liked his lemonade, but put in a generous amount. Better too sweet than too watery, he figured. When he turned to take the glasses to the living room, he was startled by Jack suddenly being right beside him. He took a step back, bumped against the counter and spilled most of the lemonade on his shirt. One of his better shirts even. Dammit, so much for trying to be more graceful around Jack. He already thought he was clumsy, and this was just another thing that supported that mistaken belief. Daniel dealt with fragile artefacts, and he had never broken one in his professional career. Maybe he should tell Jack that the next time he brought up the clumsiness. “Dammit, why did you sneak up to me?”

“I can’t sneak around in my own kitchen?” Jack asked, trying to look innocent.

Daniel grumbled, and shoved the glasses into Jack’s hands. “Here, drink that. I’ll go put this in the laundry basket.” He took off the shirt and checked the laundry instructions. They seemed fairly standard, good. The lemonade would probably wash out fine. When Daniel looked up, he saw Jack staring at him. “What? Is it that odd that I want to put my shirt in the laundry basket? You know about laundry right? It’s what most people normally do with their dirty clothes.”

“I know all about laundry, Daniel,” Jack said, and left the kitchen with the lemonade.

Daniel had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Where did Jack have his laundry basket anyway nowadays? He followed Jack into the living room. “Where is your laundry?”

“What?”

“Laundry. Basket. For the shirt,” Daniel waved the shirt in his face. Was Jack always this dense when he was drunk? Not as far as Daniel knew. Jack could be quite sneaky if he wanted to when he was drunk.

“Oh, it’s in the hallway, I think.” Jack gestured at a door.

Daniel opened the door, and sure enough, there was a basket half-filled with undone laundry. Daniel hoped some of the lemonade would spill onto Jack’s clothes. He deserved it for the sneaking. And the snuggling. And for being Jack.

When he returned, Jack had put the glasses on the table. Daniel grabbed one when he joined Jack on the couch. “I hope you do your laundry some time tomorrow.”

“Hmm?” Jack was looking at him strangely again. “Oh, look, lemonade.”

Daniel figured Jack was having a dense phase. So far there had been the ‘Doing stupid things’ phase which included the karaoke. Then there was ‘Annoyingly snugly’ phase which had stopped now, fortunately. Or unfortunately, Daniel wasn’t entirely sure. There was a short lived grumpy phase and now there was the dense phase. He put his empty glass on the table. “I think it’s time we called it a night, Jack. We’d better get you to bed.” Ah, Jack and bed. There was that wonderful combination again, and Daniel refused to think of the even better combination that had him in the middle. Sandwiched between Jack and his bed, life couldn’t get better than that. Damn, now he had thought about the better combination. Dammit.

“Yes mom,” Jack said, and picked up the glasses. Daniel watched him stumble off into the kitchen. Jack wasn’t that steady anymore, which meant he would have to help him up the stairs. Daniel hated doing that. It meant too much physical contact, and Jack could be a heavy useless lump if he wanted to be. Jack walked out of the kitchen and to the hallway door. “Well? You coming? I distinctly heard a ‘we’ there.”

You coming. We coming. Let’s come together. Right now. Sooner the better and… that was so not what Jack was talking about. Crap. “Fine, fine. I didn’t know you were in such a hurry to go to bed.”

Jack glared at him. “I thought you’d be happy I was taking your advice.”

Daniel rolled his eyes and slung Jack’s arm around his shoulder. Damn spilled lemonade. As if physical contact wasn’t bad enough with clothes on, he had to have it shirtlessly. If there was a God, Daniel was sure he had a big bowl of popcorn and was having a great time watching Daniel’s struggle.

They climbed the stairs together, Jack’s hand sliding from shoulder to waist, and Daniel thought there was a brief moment where Jack’s hand had been on his ass, but he must’ve imagined it. No way Jack would ever feel Daniel up, no matter how drunk he got. They arrived at Jack’s door, and Daniel opened it to get them in. It was neat and tidy, as Daniel had expected.

Jack immediately flopped down on the bed, face first. “Comfy,” He muttered. “Very comfy.”

Daniel was sure it was very comfy. It was also very frustrating to see Jack have such a good time in bed by himself. Especially if he kept lying on his stomach, which made it impossible for Daniel to look at anything but the ass. Very tempting. The ass and the bed. Daniel was getting tired himself. Tired from the long day, the drinks, the weird snuggling. He just wanted to get some sleep himself. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to get any in this bed. Guestroom for him. “Hey Jack, you got the guestroom ready?”

“Hmmrf?” Jack mumbled, turning his face to look at Daniel. “Guestroom?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to sleep on the couch. It’s not that comfy, and I’d like to get some sleep tonight,” Daniel told him.

“Guestroom’s… not ready,” Jack said. “Blankets’re in the laundry basket downstairs.”

“Well, I can just get them. They can’t be that dirty,” Daniel suggested. It would be better than the couch.

“The blankets were on top,” Jack replied. “Well, now your lemonade shirt is. So unless you want sticky sheets and blankets, you can’t use those.”

Daniel didn’t mind sticky sheets. Depended on what made them sticky though. Lemonade didn’t really do it for him. Now, sheets that were sticky from some damn good sex, those he didn’t mind. But that was not the case. He groaned. He knew what was going to be Jack’s next suggestion. Yep, there it came.

“You can share with me. No problem. It’s a big bed,” Jack said, and crawled up. He took off his shoes and dumped them next to the bed. “See? Plenty of space. As long as you don’t hog blankets.”

“I never had any complaints,” Daniel said, trying to think how to get out of this. He couldn’t share a bed with Jack. He knew his subconscious would make his body end up on the other side of the bed. He had the tendency to do that, he knew that from Sha’re and Sarah. They had never minded, but Jack would definitely mind waking up with his best friend all over him.

“Good! There’re some sweats in the drawer over there, and throw me one too,” Jack said, working on getting his shirt off. “Damn buttons!”

Daniel found himself standing by the dresser, drawer open. He was just getting himself some sweats, and then he’d sleep in the guestroom, even though there weren’t any blankets. It might help him cool off a little. He threw a pair on the bed for Jack, and picked one out for himself. He looked at Jack on the bed, still trying to get the shirt over his head. Why hadn’t he just unbuttoned the shirt? Couldn’t he handle buttons in his condition? He didn’t seem able to handle taking off the shirt anyway. He knew he was staring, but there was skin on display, and Jack’s head was covered with shirt anyway. Jack would never know his friend was looking his fill and creating a couple of dirty little fantasies in his head. It was all Jack’s fault for struggling with his shirt on the bed in the first place, because without that, Daniel would never have realised that there was a thing to be said for some mild bondage. He hoped Jack wasn’t planning on wearing that shirt any time soon. It’d only remind Daniel of his urge to tie Jack up with the shirt. Or with anything else really. Tie him up with a tie, that’d work. Or use the tie as a blindfold? Hell, it was his fantasy. If he wanted to use a tie as a blindfold, he could.

“Damn stupid good for nothing shirt!” Jack grunted, and finally wrestled himself out of it, emerging triumphantly. He was panting a little, but threw the shirt on the floor with gusto. “Bad shirt! Bad!”

Daniel looked at Jack’s reddened face and wondered if this was what he looked like after sex. Panting from the exertion but pleased at his triumph. It was a good look for him. He grabbed his pair of sweats, and went into the bathroom to change. He didn’t want to take off any clothes in front of Jack. Who knew when that snugly phase returned. He threw his clothes on a pile in a corner, hoping Jack wouldn’t mind too much. He splashed some cold water on his face and chest, hoping to cool off his thoughts a little. They weren’t going to do him any good tonight, so he might as well ignore them. After making use of the toilet, he went back into the hall, and saw that Jack had made himself comfortable in the bed. Good, Jack must be asleep, and now he could think of another place to sleep. Jack probably had some extra blankets in the guestroom anyway.

“Daniel? You done in there?”

“Oh? Yeah, sure, I didn’t know you were in any hurry to use the bathroom,” Daniel replied. Stupid of him really. Of course Jack would at least want to take a piss after the amount of drinks he had.

Jack snorted, and moved the blankets so Daniel could climb in. “I was waiting for you to be done so I could get some sleep. Can’t sleep if someone’s about to get into bed with you.” Jack rolled over to lie on his side, his back to Daniel.

Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but found he couldn’t. If he left for the guestroom now, he’d have to explain it. Jack genuinely seemed to expect Daniel to crawl into bed with him. Oh god, not that he didn’t want to, he wanted to, and that was the problem. He couldn’t just crawl into the same bad as Jack! That would be the stupidest thing he could possibly do.

“You coming or what?” Jack asked, without turning to look at Daniel.

Oh god. Daniel wanted to come. He needed to come. Especially if Jack was involved in the coming. He felt like he was going crazy trying to decide what to do. Get in, stay out, get in, stay out. It was some sort of weird mental hokey pokey. He didn’t know when he decided to climb into the bed, but he found himself doing so.

Jack turned to rearrange the blankets a bit more comfortably. “Took your time to get in, Daniel.”

“I was just… thinking,” Daniel said, lying on his back. Trying to figure out why he had climbed in anyway. Did he have a death wish or something? He didn’t think so.

“You think too much,” Jack said, and rearranged the blankets around Daniel, almost tucking him.

Daniel just held his breath. Jack was too damn close. Jack had no business tucking him in. Daniel was not a child, and Jack never seemed to realise it.

Jack lay down eventually on his side, and looked at Daniel. “You look worried.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Daniel replied. Which was true. He really didn’t want to talk about his worries with Jack. Not right now.

“Sure you do! You’re worried, I’m your best friend, therefore you tell me your worries.”

Daniel could feel Jack hitching closer, could feel the ghost of his breath on his bare shoulder. Dammit, this was not going well at all. Daniel scooted to the other side, away from Jack and his bare shoulder. His bare anything really.

“Daniel? You don’t look very comfortable, what’s wrong?” Jack asked, sounding genuinely concerned. And he moved closer again.

Couldn’t the man take a hint? “I thought you wanted to go to sleep?” Daniel asked, managing to sound normal. He moved away again.

“Dammit, Daniel,” Jack muttered, and snuck an arm around Daniel’s waist to pull him closer. “You’re worried, you’re uncomfortable and you’re not getting away from me, y’hear?”

Daniel was sure he was hyperventilating. Jack was hugging him again. Hugging him in bed. With bare skin involved. This was bad. This was very bad. If Jack got any closer, he would feel how bad Daniel had it for him. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He knew he sounded slightly sulky, but dammit, he didn’t have the energy to pretend nothing was going on. Something was going on, yes, but he wasn’t going to say anything.

Jack just hugged him closer, which was supposed to calm down Daniel but it had an opposite effect. “I’ll talk about my worries if you tell me about yours.”

That was supposed to entice him? Jack’s worries were probably Sam-related. Sure, Daniel could see that they couldn’t have a long-term thing, but Jack probably hadn’t thought that far. Jack was probably more worried about how Sam felt about him, and whether or not retirement was a good idea. And how he should go about getting her to take the next step. Jack’s worries were the boring worries of every heterosexual man, worried if the women he loved, loved him back. Nothing spectacular there. Certainly not worth sharing his own worries for. Jack wouldn’t get it, best friend or not. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Daniel said again.

“You’re not interested in my worries?” Jack asked, sounding sad.

“Not right now. I thought you wanted to sleep,” Daniel replied. Not that he could sleep. Not with Jack hugging him tightly for no reason. Jack snorted, and Daniel felt it on his neck and shoulders. It was getting too much, especially when Jack moved both his hands to Daniel’s waist, and pulled him closer. What the hell did he do that for? Was he going to hug Daniel tighter and tighter until he had smothered him? Jack could wait a long time before… oh, if that was what Daniel hoped it was… He looked at Jack.

“Surprise,” Jack said, and grinned.

He could say that again! Daniel turned towards Jack, keeping the closeness. “Surprise right back at you,” He whispered. Jack moved one hand towards Daniel’s ass and snuggled even closer, and Daniel wrapped his arms around Jack, finally relaxing a little.

“Can’t wait to have you in my bed when you’re sober,” Jack mumbled in Daniel’s hair.

“Mmm, I’m sober enough right now,” Daniel said. He was more than sober enough to do anything Jack wanted him to do. Especially if he kept caressing his ass like that, Jack was a natural.

Jack snorted. “I’m not buying that, Daniel. I know you. You had several beers and a tequila shot. We’re not doing anything more than cuddling.”

Daniel moved to look Jack in the eye. He had to be kidding. “Jack, you drank twice the amount I did. You did. And you’re telling me I’m not sober enough to have sex?” They had two perfectly good erections right here, and they needed taking caring of. Daniel would happily take care of Jack’s, why wouldn’t he do the same? The nerve of the man! The presumptuous asshole! Just because Daniel couldn’t hold his liquor as well as Jack didn’t mean he wasn’t in his right mind. He wanted this. Jack could feel how much he wanted this.

“Daniel, I don’t want you to regret this in the morning, okay? I’d feel like I was taking advantage of you,” Jack explained.

“Excuse me? Shouldn’t that be the other way around? Seeing as how you’re more drunk than I am? I’d be taking advantage of you if anything, and seeing as how you want me to take advantage of you, I’m not seeing the problem,” Daniel said, brushing his cock against Jack’s, making him groan.

“Don’t make this harder than this is, Daniel.” Jack grimaced at the bad pun. “I’m not taking advantage of you. You’re drunk. We’re not having sex, no matter how much we both seem to want it. Wait until the morning.”

“What if I said I wanted you to take advantage of me?” Daniel asked. “Wrote it black on white? Signed it, filed it in triplicate and everything? Dammit, Jack, I need to get laid, and I need to get laid now!”

“I’m sure you feel that way now, Daniel, but things might be different in the morning. Let’s just sleep together first and see what the morning brings, okay?” Jack moved to lay on his back, taking Daniel with him.

Daniel refused to sleep on this. Jack wanted him. He wanted Jack. Clear as daylight. “I don’t want to sleep together, I want to have some damn good sex together.”

“I know you feel that way now, Daniel, but maybe you –”

Daniel had had it with Jack’s arguing, and decided to shut the man up the best way he knew. Kissing. It started off a bit strange, since Daniel was too angry, and Jack too surprised, but it shifted from being odd to being quite good in Daniel’s opinion. Jack still had his mouth open, with suited Daniel just fine. He liked peacefully exploring other planets, but he was open to exploring new terrain on Earth as well. Daniel had expected Jack to flip him on his back, taking control of the kiss, but he seemed more than happy to have Daniel on top of him. Well, Daniel was happy with that too. Very happy, in fact, especially if Jack continued sucking on his tongue like that, oh yeah, let’s see Jack arguing now that they shouldn’t have sex. He gave Jack a couple of short kisses, ready to continue the argument.

He waited for Jack to open his eyes, but when they didn’t open after a couple of seconds and Jack started snoring softly as well, Daniel was livid. What kind of messed up reverse fairy tale was this? The handsome prince fell asleep from kissing? That just wasn’t right. And yet the calm rise and fall of Jack’s chest showed otherwise. He was very much asleep, and Daniel wasn’t going to change that. Not right now, anyway. But Jack was going to get a very rude awakening in the morning.

Fri, 14 Apr 2006 21:57:07 GMT

Title: There Are Times
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Summary: There are times when Harry needs someone, and Ron has been there for him, and then things change, but in the end, Ron always is still there for him.
Notes: Somewhat of a WAFFy fic. Set after HPB, sort of if they were on the run from Hogwarts.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away.

There are times when Harry is scared and Hermione isn't exactly the best person to help him out. Yes, she's a great friend and a lot smarter than Ron when it comes to figuring thing sout, but sometimes he needs someone he can just go to and who'll really comfort him in no way than someone who is your best friend can do. And that person is Ron. And they were good until recently, when both he and Ron had hit their teens and become not necessarily pleasant with each other sometimes. But then in the end, it worked out.

And so every now and then, he'll go to Ron's bedroom and sit with Ron and they'll talk quietly, about everything except the real problem until it finally comes down to it. And neither of them really know what to say then, but they try to, and Harry thanks Ron for that. And sometimes he'll wake up, not sure where he is because he's fallen asleep next to Ron and Ron is snoring loudly in his ear, and with a start, he'll jerk away and then realise what's going on. He'll settle back, but it's too late and Ron will have woken up and be looking at him blearily, sometimes annoyed, sometimes confused, and then there are times like tonight.

Harry had been thinking about things. It had built up on him. So many deaths of the people he knew and loved, and how much fear was surrounding him. He had been thinking about it all the time, but then came tonight when he couldn't take it anymore. Hermione was in her own room, crying, scared. They all were scared. Only today had they heard about Professor Flitwick, who'd been killed. And so Harry had gone to Ron, sat there, looked at him, and they'd sat in shocked silence for a time. They hadn't really talked tonight.

Harry had finally wiped his hand across the back of his eyes, swiping tears away that threatened to give away whatever semblance of control he had, but then saw Ron doing the same thing and smiled at Ron gently, met Ron's eyes, and sighed heavily. "So, what are we going to do? What can we do about this?"

Ron couldn't answer and neither could Harry. So Harry settled in beside Ron. They lay there, on the bed that was too big for one of them but not quite large enough for two of them, and attempted to sleep. Ron fell asleep first, out of exhaustion. He was under a lot of stress, just as much as Harry, but he wasn't as good as dealing with it. Not that Harry was necessarily an expert.

He dreamt of Ron dying, his body lying limply on the ground while Snape stood over him. As Snape turned to him, he realised that it was not Snape any longer. It was Voldemort and Snape was holding him down. And Harry jerks awake, tries to pull away from the person behind him, still thinking it was Snape. It is Ron, and he realises it only a moment too late, trying to lay his head down and settle in with his friend, finding something that would have been before quite strange (or maybe not, he's always been close to Ron and found this alright), a comfort. But Ron is awake, raising his head and staring at Harry in fear as Harry tilts his head back carefully to peek at his friend.

"Are you alright, Harry?" He asks. Harry sighs heavily. "Dreaming?"

Harry nods and looks at him. "You?" Ron shakes his head. "That's probably for the best." He answers and Ron looks at him for a moment more before squeezing his shoulder. However, Ron is clammy with sweat and Harry doesn't believe that Ron hasn't been dreaming for a second. He heard Ron start to whimper and felt him twitching after he fell asleep. They've all been having bad dreams lately, none of them sleeping too well.

He decides to check on Hermione while he's up and tells Ron, who nods and comes with him. It is one, probably because Ron is scared after the dreams they've both been having, and two, for safety. If by some chance someone does find them, two is better than one in a fight. So they make their way across the hall to Hermione, who is lying in exhaustion on her bed, tears having streaked and stained her face. Harry wipes at them, but it does nothing as they have long since dried. She twitches in her sleep and rolls over, and Harry removes his fingers, because she looks as if her dreams are at least peaceful for now.

So they go back to Ron's bed and Harry curls up on it, and Ron curls up next to him, their knees bumping. Ron's hand finds Harry's arm again and rubs it for a second, and Harry is so glad that Ron is still there. He doesn't know what he'd do without Ron. Things have changed between them in the last few months. He doesn't know how, but one day found him crying and Ron awkwardly putting his arms around Harry, and Harry holding onto his arms weakly and feeling completely broken. But he wasn't.

Harry had been hiding feelings for Ron forever, and his body reacted to this. Because maybe it was stress and he wanted relief and this was something simple and pure between them, but he reacted, and he tried to hide his problem but he couldn't, and Ron pulled back as Harry shifted uncomfortably. And Ron looked down, flushed, and Harry tried to cover himself up. He remembered Ron hiding his chest from Hermione when she woke him up that one time, and he understood why. But then Ron laid down next to him, ignoring it. He's Harry's best friend and that was what Harry was wishing he'd do. However, he didn't expect Ron to slide his hand along Harry's lap and up Harry's chest and hold him close.

A slow careful kiss to the back of Harry's neck and Harry turned his head, looks at Ron. "What?"

Ron lifted his own eyebrows. "Yeah." And then he nervously moved in. They bumped noses and then kissed, and it was alright. It wasn't perfect, but then again, Harry had only kissed Ginny and Cho, and Cho was barely even a countable kiss. So he kissed Ron again. Time to learn how with Ron.

And now, a few months later, here they were curled up with each other. And Ron touched Harry's face, kissed him, and tugged him closer. "Don't worry, Harry. Just sleep. I'm here." Ron said. Harry sighed. He might not have the best dreams but he would at least have Ron for now.

Fri, 07 Apr 2006 08:09:12 GMT

Title: New Turns
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Lai/Bikky, some Dee/Ryo hintings
Summary: After Carol and Bikky break things off, things between Bikky and Lai end up changing one afternoon.
Notes: Written for yuki_buffy who requested some good Lai/Bikky fic. Somewhat futurefic. I'd say the boys are around late 16 to early 17? Also, the Dee/Ryo part is always for Michelle. :D
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away.

"Hey, get back here, you runt!" Lai shouted at Bikky as the boy took off running. They'd been studying in the park, because it was the first real day of spring and they didn't really feel like being cooped up inside any more. But Lai had been lecturing Bikky on his math. "Bikky, it's not that hard." He'd been trying to explain. "See, all you have to do is for this, take out the three threes and put them outside, and keep the five underneath so you have three cubed root five."

But Bikky had yawned widely. "It's boring." He decisively announced. Lai frowned at him and shoved the book forward more, moving Bikky's paper and pencil to him. "What?" Bikky complained.

"Do the damn problem." Lai ordered him crankily. "I'm not the one who has to be helping you out here. You could fail a grade, but no, you came begging me to help you pass when Carol said she'd break up with you if you didn't pass a grade."

"And it was too late for me in the semester to get my grades up high enough." Bikky said in annoyance. "So she did break up with me. So why the hell are you still helping me study?"

Lai narrowed his eyes at him. "Because you lost your drive to study at all. Hell, if I didn't make you study, you'd most likely not pass this grade this time around." He raised an eyebrow and tapped the book. But then he shouted in pain as Bikky kicked him. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"For being rude!" Bikky shouted and started to talk off. Lai got up and grabbed his books, hurrying after him, and Bikky started running. "Stay away from me!"

"Hey, get back here, you runt!" Lai shouted right back, chasing him. But he ended up chasing Bikky halfway through the park to the edge of the forest where Bikky finally tripped over a root as he ran and ended up sprawled facefirst on the ground. And then Lai pinned him, holding him down while Bikky struggled. The books were abandoned to the dirt while the boys scuffled on the earth.

And then Lai managed to get Bikky to stop struggling by forcing most of his weight down on Bikky's elbows, making Bikky screech with pain until Lai let up. "Stop struggling." Lai grumbled. "I figure I should apologise. I didn't mean to make it sound like you were never going to go anywhere."

Bikky lay there, staring at him. He stared for a long time without saying anything. Finally he pushed at Lai. "Mind getting off me?" The other boy didn't move however, and instead watched Bikky until Bikky got annoyed and shoved him away.

"It's strange, you know." Lai said quietly, and Bikky sat up to watch him while Lai pushed his fingers through the grass, the sun shining down on it and making a new shade of green that hadn't been seen in months. Winter was finally leaving and a new turn of colours and scenery and feelings were rising throughout the area. "What would you say if I told you that I might be a bit attracted to you?"

Bikky stared at Lai. "What?" He managed to stutter out.

"Well, I know that Ryo and Dee are together and you're not exactly the happiest person about that." Lai continued. "So I'm guessing you're not exactly friendly towards people who are bisexual or gay?"

Bikky raised his eyebrows. "When did I say that? I'm fine with them. Bisexuals and gays and all that, I mean. It's just... Dee is a pervert. Ryo's innocent." Bikky tried to explain. Lai looked at the ground. "Why, are you admitting that you're attracted to me or something?"

Lai shrugged. "Maybe. Sure. Yeah." And he seemed to slump forward a bit, releasing a huge breath, and Bikky suspected that he'd been holding that in for a while. He wasn't exactly sure how to feel about that. Because Lai and he barely got along so how could Lai say he was interested in bikky. And it was weird. He had nothing against gays but he wans't. And it was just weird to know that there was a guy who was interested in him.

Lai shrugged. "Grab the books, don't let them just sit in the dirt." He eyed Bikky and then looked away. He got to his kneecaps, dusting off his shirt and shorts. Bikky leaned over and went to grab the books, and then saw and felt Lai slide sideways and plant one hand onto the ground, slipping in front of Bikky and kissing him hard. And Bikky gasped as Lai did so, froze for a split second out of shock, and then jerked away.

"Hey!" He shouted in sudden nervousness. But Lai got to his feet and shrugged.

"Won't do that again. Figured I'd just get it out of my system. Ya know?" And then Lai was starting to walk away. "I'll see you in a couple days for our next study session. I'll meet you outside school, alright?"

Bikky could only stare at him, holding the books to his chest, mouth still hanging open as he stared at Lai walking away. And for some reason, his eyes followed Lai, traveled his back and hips and legs, and then back up to his dark hair. And Bikky decided that he didn't like his brain being perverted at that exact moment because it just wasn't appropriate.

~~~

"Ryo?"

Ryo looked up from where he was cooking dinner. Dee was leaning back in the chair, lazily tossing the salad and Bikky was leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. "Yeah, Bikky?" He asked. Dee too looked up and Bikky had to admit that Dee had become like a second father figure to him, taking care of him as well as Ryo did, as well as he took care of Ryo. That wasn't to say that they always got along, but both of them could and would later admit that it was due to their short tempers and Bikky's adolescent hormones.

Bikky looked at Dee. "What did you think when Dee first..." He paused and looked at Dee, who was now staring at Bikky after hearing his name. "Can you leave?" Bikky asked. Dee raised his eyebrows, shook his head. Ryo scowled at Dee but Bikky let it pass for once. "...when Dee first kissed you?" He continued.

Ryo raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's an interesting question. Uhm." He paused, and glared again at Dee, who was now staring at him and smirking, snickering. "Shut up, Dee. Or else I'll make you go home tonight." Dee rolled his eyes but silenced himself. "Well, I was certainly shocked. I mean, we had almost died and I just barely knew Dee, and it was quite a shocker. I was a little annoyed that he made me think his arm was hurt really badly and then he started waving it about and laughing at me. But, I mean, I don't know. I didn't really feel anything. Or at least, I wouldn't have admitted it then. I might have been a little interested, but it was still pretty weak."

Dee pursed his lips slightly, tugging them to the side and staring at Ryo. "Well, I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult." Ryo shushed him and frowned at him again. "Fine, fine." Dee muttered. "Why do you ask, Bikky?"

Bikky looked at him. "Like I'll tell you, pervert." He shot back, and then looked at the floor. "Earlier today, Lai kissed me. He told me he was attracted to me." He shuffled his feet a bit. "And I don't know. I mean, I'm fine with you guys. I kind of did maybe ogle him a little bit and I don't know why. So I don't know what that means."

Ryo sighed and glanced at Dee. "Feel like taking over the pasta?" He asked, adding in a, "And try not to burn the sauce." Dee got up and took over the food, eyeing it suspiciously as if it was going to come alive and attack him. He certainly did not necessarily like food that involved more than shoving it in a microwave or toaster or yanking it out of the fridge and opening the lid. Hell, he still had trouble with a can opener sometimes. Ryo liked to laugh at him when he argued with the inanimate object and lost.

"Look, Bikky," Ryo began. "I wouldn't say I'm gay. And we know Dee isn't." That earned a scowl from Dee's part and an apologetic look in return from Ryo. The two of them had gotten good enough at talking through only looks and gestures in the last year. "In fact, I wouldn't even say I'm bisexual. I think that I'm straight. But I ended up falling for Dee because he was someone who I care for, who cares for me, who takes care of me as best he can. We share the same interests in things and even though we can argue a lot, there's just something about him that draws me to him. And I mean, Freud said that most of us are all bisexual to some degree."

"Granted, Freud isn't to be taken completely seriously." Dee interjected, and Ryo nodded, shaking his head and making a "Yeah, good point" sort of expression.

"But anyways. Then Kinsey also had a scale of straight and gayness. And most people don't fall exactly on completely straight or gay." Ryo continued. Bikky looked at him in suspicion. "Uhm, Dee actually was useful for once and printed out some sheets on this for me to read a couple months after we got together."

Dee grinned and did a little groove thing, making a sly face and Ryo didn't even bother turning around to watch but snapped his fingers and pointed at Dee. "Stop that. Now." Dee immediately did and made a face at Ryo behind Ryo's back. Ryo snapped again. "Couch tonight, Dee?" And Dee was good then.

Bikky had to smile at that. "I mean, it's not like me and Lai are even that close or anything. You two get each other. But... me and Lai are so different. It's not like when I was with Carol."

Ryo shook his head. "No, probably not. And I mean, it's really up to you to decide if you're interested or not."

"Do you think because I'm with you guys and you're together, Lai thinks he's got a better chance with me?" Bikky asked, looking nervous, almost remorseful for that.

Dee interjected now. "Nope. At least, I hope not. If he does, then he's an idiot. Studies show that there's no connection between a child's sexuality as he grows up and his parents or guardians." Ryo and Bikky both looked at Dee now, looking impressed. "Hey, I'm not a complete idiot!" Dee protested.

Ryo looked at Bikky. "So, really, Bikky, what we're trying to tell you is that you have to be the one who decides whether or not you were looking at Lai in a more than friendly way, if you're interested, or if you need to tell him to back off a bit and that you're not interested in pursuing anything with him."

Bikky nodded and sighed. Then Dee moved away from the stove and threw an oven mitt at him. "Hey, monkey-boy, take over the pasta, I have to use the bathroom." And Bikky moved in next to Ryo who began to stir the sauce again.

~~~

Three days later, Lai was waiting for him as promised outside of school as the bell rang and everyone rushed away to escape to the freedom of the warm air outside. He was leaning against the wall but Bikky could tell that he was nervous. In a strange way, it calmed Bikky down. And he leaned against the wall in a polar imitation of Lai. "So."

"So." Lai repeated right back, and Bikky eyed him. "What?"

"Let's go back to your place. We need to talk." Bikky said, pretty much ordered. And when they had made their way back to Lai's place, Law greeting them and then disappearing to see Lei, and Lai calling Lass to tell her not to come over for a bit longer.

"Yeah, what is it?" Lai asked as he hung up.

"This is going to sound really weird, but ... can you maybe... i don't know. Kiss me again or smething?" Bikky looked at the ground. Lai tilted his head and Bikky peeked up underneath his bangs. "I was talking with Dee and Ryo and Ryo told me he didn't know how he felt with Dee when he first got kissed. And I don't know if I liked it or not. So. I was just wondering. And if you act like an asshole, I'll kick your face in." Bikky warned.

Lai laughed, a bit nervously. "I guess." He answered. And then he swooped in again, but then wavered and finally managed to kiss Bikky, lips pressing carefully against the other boy's. Bikky kissed back a bit nervously. He knew how to kiss but it was different with a guy. Lai's lips were a little rougher than Carol's, warmer, thinner. It was shyer than any of his kisses with Carol had been. And when Lai pulled back, Bikky decided he didn't really know still. So he grabbed Lai and tugged him in close and kissed him this time, and immediately felt a shockrushthrill as Lai reacted, gave a gasp and tiny hum that was nearly a moan. And then Lai slid his tongue forward and Bikky let him take control again, and the kiss was still good.

When they did pull apart, Bikky had his hand pressed above Lai's as Lai leaned forward towards Bikky, and his other hand was on Lai's knee. He stared at Lai, still only an inch or so apart. "Uhm."

"Yeah." Lai answered, understanding. Bikky got what he now had to call the "Dee and Ryo Moment" sensation, with the understanding of what the other was saying without really saying anything. "So. Uhm. How was..."

"How was it?" Bikky asked slash answered for Lai, almost babbling. "It was... good, and interesting. I ... I don't know. Maybe?"

"Maybe?" Lai asked back, looking hopeful. Bikky shrugged. "Want to find out some more?"

"Maybe. Maybe you better make another phone call to Lass. Tell her to not come over at all." Bikky said, grinning slyly at Lai, nerves suddenly leaving him as Lai looked startled and then amused and relieved, and happy. He had a feeling he was going to be having an interesting afternoon, with not much studying.

Mon, 03 Apr 2006 04:51:49 GMT

Title: As The Sun Rises
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: R
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: Just a few minutes in the early morning wake-up of Daniel and Jack.
Notes: Because Draco is still my muse and I dedicate all my Stargate fic to her. Still set around Season 1, since that's all I've seen. :P I'll move past there soon. Was supposed to be a 5 or 6 paragraph cutesy fic. It is now insanely NOT that.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away.

In the last few months, Daniel had started to pick up on Jack's traits. Daniel was slightly anal about his house and keeping it clean. And then he'd started staying with Jack overnight every now and then. And then one night, he'd fallen asleep on the couch next to Jack. He slid sideways, head falling to rest against Jack's shoulder, and Jack looked over and rubbed his hand through Daniel's soft hair, watched Daniel actually yawn and turn more against Jack in his sleep.

And Jack had smiled, tugged down a blanket that was lying on the back of the couch, and moved to let Daniel curl up on the couch, removing the other man's glasses and setting them on the table. Sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, every now and then he could feel Daniel's breath on his neck every now and then. He flipped through the channels before turning off the television and heading to bed.

When he woke up the next day, Daniel was still asleep, but he woke up as soon as Jack started to make coffee for him. He wandered in, his shirt having been lost at some point in the night. As he wrapped the blanket tighter around his wrinkled jeans and got a coffee cup, blinked at Jack with his glasses not on yet, Jack had to laugh. "Sweet dreams, sleeping beauty?"

"Guess so." Daniel shrugged. "Didn't really dream much." Jack patted his shoulder and headed to where Daniel had been sleeping to snag his glasses and return, placing them on Daniel's face. They ended up slightly lopsided and Jack grinned until Daniel adjusted them with a slight frown before pouring coffee for himself. "Mind if I use your shower?"

Jack gestured towards the bathroom and started going through his cabinets for something to eat. It was a warm, early spring day and they didn't have to work that day. They were planning on just hanging out and watching some old Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers flicks. When Daniel re-emerged twenty minutes later wrapped in a towel, long hair slicked back off his face, a few strands working free from the rest to fall in his face, Jack looked at him. "Planning on getting dressed, Danny-boy?"

Daniel coughed. "Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow some of your clothes. I hadn't planned on crashing here last night. I was going to come back tomorrow after I'd showered and dressed at my place-"

"Daniel, yeah, you can borrow some of my clothes. Go ahead." Jack mumbled around a mouthful of corn flakes. He decided that it didn't taste quite sweet enough and dumped a third teaspoon of sugar over the cereal, crunching down on the food. Daniel mumbled his thanks again and disappeared again into Jack's room, re-emerging a few minutes later wearing a faded Jimmy Buffet teeshirt and even more faded and ripped blue jeans that were just slightly too long for him and fell over his toes that Daniel curled and uncurled in the carpet, the worn material having become soft from many wearings and washings, holes in the kneecaps and one on his right thigh. He

Jack smiled at him. "Interesting choice of clothing."

Daniel looked down and then gave Jack a bemused look. "Wouldn't have pegged you for a Jimmy Buffet fan." Jack mumbled something about liking the Champs and any song that was titled after alcohol, but Daniel was still looking disbelieving. Jack held up a bagel from a nearby bag (he'd picked them up yesterday and had a couple left) and tossed it at Daniel. Daniel took it and then fumbled for the little container of cream cheese that was also thrown at him. Daniel stared at Jack as Jack held up the butterknife and shook his head, hurrying to take the utensil. "Don't you dare." He warned.

And Jack had ruffled Daniel's still wet hair and wandered to the bathroom to take his own shower.

~~~

Of course, then came the night that Daniel ended up getting sick from too much alcohol and Jack had directed him to Jack's bedroom, laid Daniel down and watched the man undo his pants and wiggle out of them slowly, letting them drop to the side of the bed. It was probably the first time that Daniel hadn't put his clothes in a hamper, Jack thought to himself, and watched as the man removed his shirt. And as he did, he realised just how low Daniel's boxers were. Daniel moved to adjust them but not before Jack got a fairly good view of the trail of hair leading underneath.

And since he didn't really feel like sleeping on the couch, because how did Daniel sleep there; the damn thing was very uncomfortable, he ended up taking off his own shirt and jeans and sliding in next to Daniel, settling on his back. As an afterthought, he got up, moved the trash bin to Daniel's side of the bed in case he needed it, and then tucked himself back in.

He didn't sleep easy that night; instead, he was up for most of it making sure that Daniel wasn't going to vomit in his sleep and choke. Around four in the morning, Daniel stirred and groaned, rubbed his eyes and mouth. Jack lifted his head from the pillow and looked at him. "Hey there, Danny-boy. You feeling alright?" Daniel nodded and opened his eyes enough to squint at Jack.

"Have you slept yet?"

Jack lifted his hand and made a "so-so" motion in the air, and Daniel instantly looked contrite. "I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to keep you up. I'm fine now. I'll go sleep on the couch or something so you can get some real rest."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You can stay here, Daniel. I'm tired enough that I could sleep through a tornado." And with that, he turned over and closed his eyes and was out in minutes.

~~~

And eventually came the night where Jack woke up with Daniel next to him during the middle of a storm and found that Daniel was wide awake, looking out the window, propped up on one elbow. The flashes of lightning lit his face up and turned his eyes nearly electric-blue before leaving him in a fog of shadows, just staring. He looked entranced by the storm and Jack watched him for a minute before Daniel noticed.

"Sorry." Daniel apologised. "It was just really ... I don't know. It made me feel really alive." Jack waved at him and continued watching him. Daniel looked at Jack and his lips curved into a smile that Jack saw with the next flash of light. They both jumped at the sudden spatter of rain that hit the window and then Daniel got out of the bed, walked out of the room. Jack yawned, followed him curiously. Daniel grabbed his jeans off the floor (he'd at least folded them) and pulled them up, the hem of his boxers just barely peeking out, and Jack was glad he was wearing a teeshirt and sweatpants, followed Daniel outside into the storm.

Daniel sat down on the porch, pulled his knees to his chest, and watched. Jack settled in next to him, ignoring the droplets of rain that blew inwards from the wind to smack him in the face. And when Daniel turned to stare at Jack, Jack shifted a bit. "Daniel?" He asked. Daniel looked away without replying, which slightly annoyed Jack.

"No, you can't do that, Daniel. Now you have to tell me what you were thinking." And Daniel looked at him again

"Just thinking that you've been really nice to me ever since, well, Sha're and everything we've been through. I guess I realised it the most after we ended up saving the world from Apophis." Daniel was looking at Jack, but not at his eyes. His face, most likely his lips, and Jack wondered why that was. Figured it out a moment later when he realised that Daniel was leaning in and felt a sudden shiver run through him. Daniel liked him? And then Daniel pulled back, didn't kiss him.

Jack didn't know what to think. The idea of Daniel liking him was... interesting. It was against the rules, on more than one level. One, because they were both men. And although Jack had nothing against two men together, he wasn't gay. Of course, in a strange way, that wasn't really too applicable with Daniel. Daniel was just Daniel. And Jack couldn't think of any other men who he would sleep willingly in bed with, not wearing much clothing, and be comfortable doing that with.

So now he and Daniel were staring at each other, and they weren't talking. And the lightning was now providing illumination for half of Daniel's face and the other side was still masked in darkness. It was oddly ethereal and Jack found himself comparing it to Daniel, how he had sides that Jack couldn't see and sides that he showed to Jack so openly, and sometimes it was the most revealing thing he'd ever seen.

And then he realised that it was he who was now leaning in towards Daniel, wondering why he was, but not stopping. Maybe he could just try it out and see what it was like to kiss Daniel. And he did, and Daniel's lips were soft, a bit dry. Daniel didn't kiss him back, however, and when Jack pulled back, Daniel was staring at him in confusion. "Jack?"

Jack didn't really know what to think now, and so he just sort of looked at the rain again.

"How come?" Daniel finally asked.

Jack turned to him, and Daniel had turned more, most of his face illuminated now by the lightning, because he wasn't really looking at Jack anymore. And Jack didn't answer for a long time.

"I was curious to know what it would feel like."

Daniel nodded, still not looking at Jack, looking almost like he wasn't paying attention. "Did you like it?" He asked.

"I don't know, Daniel. You didn't exactly kiss me back. From what I could tell, it wasn't bad." Jack said, slightly sarcastic, and Daniel scowled at him but smiled a moment later.

"So... would you want to try it again?" Daniel asked, stealing a glance at Jack. And Jack looked at him, a grin suddenly stealing across his face, because that was absurd and completely fitting for what had just happened.

"Uhm, sure." Jack replied, surprising himself. Except this wasn't really surprising, and then Daniel was kissing him again. And there was a moment of hesitation before they shifted and Jack was leaning against brick with Daniel taking control of the kiss (again, a surprise, maybe because Jack was still too shocked at himself to do anything else). When Daniel's tongue slid forward, ran over Jack's lips for a moment, Jack let his mouth part and felt Daniel slide his tongue in. He wondered if Daniel was going to be a good kisser because he was a good lingust and then mentally chastised himself because of course he was, and Jack could tell because Daniel was doing something wonderful with his tongue, massaging Jack's tongue, pressing against it, and it was wetslickheat between them for a minute before they parted.

Daniel pulled back, blushing a little, and Jack had to admit that it had been a very good kiss. "Not bad at all." He breathed out, reminiscent of after they had saved the world, of when he'd seen Daniel for the first time.

Jack looked at the sky, which was lightening as daybreak approached, although the rain wasn't letting up. "Let's go back inside." He murmured. When they got back to the bed, Daniel looked at him with a worried expression.

"What does this mean for us?" Daniel asked. "Was that just a one time thing?"

Jack didn't know what to say yet so instead, he leaned over and hugged Daniel hard, didn't let go, and finally Daniel returned the embrace. And Jack had a feeling that it wasn't going to be the last kiss that they shared.

Jack was right. A few nights later, they kissed again, and this time, Daniel started to slide his fingers down Jack's stomach to between his thighs. "Can I?" He asked. And Jack arched his hips and nodded, clamping his hand on Daniel's arm and kissing him hard.

And they didn't fall asleep until the morning came, taking their time, spending nearly four hours with just exploring and kissing and everything they could, and Jack was surprised at how very good it felt and how very right it felt. When Daniel fell asleep, one arm thrown over Jack's hip, his face to Jack's neck and chest to Jack's back, warm and sticky and oddly romantic, Jack found himself drifting to sleep for the little time they had before getting to SGC.

~~~

And now it was three months later. Daniel had definitely picked up on Jack's bad habit of dropping clothing where he took them off. He'd done that last night after his shower and Jack looked at the pile of clothing lying by the door. Jack wasn't about to wake Daniel up. They'd just returned from a mission where they'd all nearly been killed, and Hammond had been nice enough to let them have the next few days off to recuperate.

And so Jack had one arm tightly wrapped around Daniel. He wasn't about to let him go, because Daniel had come to mean a hell of a lot more than he would have ever expected. When he tightened his arm around Daniel and pushed his nose into Daniel's hair, inhaled, smelled shampoo and the distinct Daniel smell, he smiled to himself. Daniel tilted his head back as he woke up. "Jack?"

"Morning." Jack murmured, stroking his fingers down Daniel's hip and then dropping them from there to where Daniel's morning erection was. "Look by the door." Daniel blearily focused and didn't see what Jack was looking at for a moment and then started to get up.

"Oh, sorry about that." He apologised, or at least started to before Jack caught his chin and turned his face to kiss him.

"Shut up, Daniel." He said dryly, and kissed him again, deeper, and began to stroke Daniel's cock languidly, feeling Daniel shift and sigh and give a small moan into Jack's mouth. Jack took his time with it, teasing Daniel for a while until Daniel practically begged him, and then gave in, going faster and firmer until Daniel thrust forward hard a few times and let out a stuttering moan, his mouth leaving Jack's as he came in Jack's hand.

And Jack reached for a tissue to wipe off his hand and then looked at Daniel. "Do you want to go back to sleep?" He asked. Daniel shook his head and looked outside.

"Sun's rising." He murmured. "Going to be a beautiful day." Jack followed his gaze to the sunrise, which was turning grey sky to pink and yellow and faint blue in the distance that would grow.

"Yeah." Jack agreed, and felt Daniel's arms wrap around him, this time. He settled back and watched another day begin.

Thu, 23 Mar 2006 17:44:19 GMT

Title: Responses (2/5)
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: Daniel lays with Jack, muses about how he enjoys being there.
Notes: Hee, I love this show and it is quickly eating my brain.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away.

Daniel turns over and presses his face against Jack's chest, tired, warm, content. Jack's arm slides over his hip and caresses the curve of his butt, and Daniel gives a little sigh, nuzzling in closer, fingers lacing through Jack's.

He sometimes thinks he should have done this long ago. Jack made the first move but Daniel should have made it a long time ago, because this is what he loves.

Because when they come home from a mission and Daniel is the one who stays with Jack and sleeps next to him, he can't imagine anywhere else he'd rather be.

Tue, 14 Mar 2006 05:36:21 GMT

Title: Ten Times
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Summary: Justin remembers 9 times he was with Brian.
Notes: Written for Christine. :D 10 100 word drabbles.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away!

I

Justin could remember the first time Brian took him. It hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before, a stretchburnache that filled him completely and made him suck in a tight gasp of air, holding it, lungs aching from the sharpness, and then he released it slowly, and felt Brian thrust forward. He'd panted with each movement that Brian made, trembling, and struggled to adjust to the size of Brian's cock inside of him, until it had started to feel good, and he'd grabbed Brian's shoulders and rocked with him until his head fell back and he came with a keening noise.

II

The next time Brian fucked him, Justin was more prepared for the feel of being pushed into, and it didn't hurt as much. He wrapped his legs around Brian's hips, the heels of his feet digging into the small of Brian's back, and Brian went hard into him again while Justin clutched at him, hungry for more. But he still didn't know if all sex was so rough and violent, the way it seemed to be with Brian. He'd come even harder this time, just went Brian did, felt Brian collapse onto him, panting for breath, always eager for more.

III

The third time that Justin was taken by Brian, it was slow and he was on his stomach, panting, cock aching. Brian had spent quite a few minutes rimming him, teasing him, torturing him, and then he carefully pushed into Justin (because Justin was upset that day and perhaps Brian understood that he needed something softer) while Justin fisted the pillow and sheets. Everything had seemed gentler, even if Brian had declared himself not a lover to Justin, unfeeling. But it was good and Justin wished it could have gone on longer, because it was less hot but more sweet.

IV

The first time he gave a blowjob to Brian, he'd been on his hands and knees above Brian, watching him nervously, letting his tongue slip out to carefully circle the head and taste the bitter drop of precome on the tip. He slid his mouth further down, still watching Brian, seeing the way his eyelids fluttered and his stomach tightened. Justin used the tiniest signals to guide himself and sucked harder, hollowing his cheeks, and when Brian shoved his hands forward and clutched Justin's scalp, Justin figured he was doing a pretty damn good job already and sucked even harder.

V

The first time he got a blowjob from Brian, Brian used his teeth to very lightly scrape along his cock, licking at the veins slowly, tracing them, underneath and around to the top, washing across the tip, and then enveloping him in one fast, hot, wet sweep of tongue and lips and throat that sent Justin into a hard buck upwards, moaning for more. Brian went hard and fast and Justin barely had time to feel it before he was spurting into Brian's mouth, feeling Brian swallow around him, his come, and that thought made him nearly lose his mind.

VI

The first time that Justin took Brian, he lay him on his stomach, chest to Brian's firm back, and slid a condom on slowly, heart pounding, but not nearly as much as he would have expected. He slid into Brian steadily, one firm motion, and Brian stiffened underneath him for a moment before relaxing. Running his hand along the curve of Brian's buttocks and hip, Justin caressed the skin before thrusting forward steadily, and before long, Brian was pushing back wantonly. And Justin refused to come until Brian did; when it ended, Justin lay next to Brian, watched him sleep.

VII

He rode Brian once, the big muscles in his thighs tightening as he rose up and down, sliding himself onto Brian's cock, slipping it out of himself in a steady, slow pattern, felt Brian holding his hips, guiding him, keeping the pace slow, even when Justin wanted to go faster, until Justin was aching with hardness. And then Brian flipped them, pushed Justin facefirst into the pillows, and began to go hard and fast into him, his mouth at the back of his neck with sharp nips, stroking him just as heatedly, and Justin writhed and screamed when he came.

VIII

Brian likes chocolate sauce. Justin discovered that one day when he was eating ice cream and Brian grabbed the sauce, squirted a mouthful past his lips, and replaced it. Justin brought the chocolate sauce into the bedroom later, took a swig from the bottle, and kissed Brian deep, and Brian laughed slightly, pulled him closer, and Justin revealed the other treat, the whipped cream. He decorated two circles around his nipples and a line leading to his cock, which he covered in chocolate, and Brian didn't even try to keep the sheets clean that night, but simply bought new ones.

IX

They were leaving Babylon one night, and Justin remembers Brian grabbed him and tugged him to a wall, whispering illicit things about public sex, getting caught, and how could Justin argue with that, especially when Brian was undoing his pants and sliding four fingers around his cock to tug slowly? And so he'd let his head fall back against the brick, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the rough surface, pushing into Brian's palm until he came, holding back his cry in his throat, watching Brian smirk with that look in his eyes, a gleam that made Justin want more, again.

X

Justin is pinned against the wall, Brian working down his chest, pausing at each nipple to bite and suck and blow at the skin, making them hard. And his fingers are tracing lines down Justin's stomach to between his thighs and finally wrapping around Justin's erection, slidingslippingteasing until Justin begs for more, is pushed into the wood, thrust into, and Brian goes hard into him until Justin comes against the wall, sweaty and panting and sore but loving every second, and Brian examines the stain left on the wall from the semen, just another reminder of each time they're together.

Mon, 13 Mar 2006 02:19:36 GMT

Disclaimer: All of this, except for the actual story, is purely from my imagination. I do not own Dom and Billy (*koffkoffdamnitallkoffkoff*), nor do I promise that they will be completely in character. So don't sue, plzkthxbai!

~~~

~*Start the funky guitar music, turn off the lights, break the fourth wall as you trip over the dog in the dark, eejit!~*

In a not too distant future
somewhere in time and space
a hapless bunch of people are caught in a nasty chase
Pursued by badic authors named Aura and Lorelai
They're dimwitted bints, can't write but they''ll try
They threw a few fics in their purse
and in their sparklyship they'll hunt them all across the universe!
(Lorelai - "Read the Harry Potter fic my friend wrote!"
Aura - "It's soooo cute!")

Lorelai: "I'll send them lots of stories,
the best from my friends,"
Aura: "They'll have to sit and read them all,
and I'll always have more to send!"

Now keep in mind they can't control where the fics begin or end,
they'll have to keep their sanity with the help of their loyal friends!
Slashy Roll Call!

Dom! "Fudge a badger!"
Billy! "I'd like a pint, please!"
Beth! "Bwee!"

If you're wondering how they eat or stay sane or other logical facts,
just repeat to yourself, "It's too hard to explain, I should really just relax!"
it's Mystery Slash Theatre 3000(.14159)!

~~~

A loud, electronic sound came from the living room. Hooked up to the television were two DDR pads and a PS2. And dancing on the pads (not necessarily gracefully) were Dom and Billy. Behind them, Beth was dancing on the floor, adding in turns and slaps every now and then. "Aren't you glad that I figured out how to transport up to ten pounds with my computer?"
"Yes, but-" Dom tried to turn around and then hurriedly twisted back around. "You almost blew up the ship! And yourself!"

Beth shrugged and twisted around, crossing her legs and then coming back around. "But I got us this. Isn't this much more fun?"

Just then, in the middle of a song, they heard the sound of Aura and Lorelai calling. Beth growled with anger and Dom turned around again. "Take my place." He said. Beth jumped onto the pad as he jumped off and continued to match Billy step for step.

"You could do that in a kilt, y`know. You'd be much sexier." She grinned. "Betcha Dom would shag you."

Dom didn't hear what she said, listening to Lorelai with a pained expression on his face, but Billy stared at Beth and stopped moving. She waved at him and snapped her fingers, pointing at the screen. But it was too late. With a last stomp, the song ended as his accuracy bar quickly drained. "Damn you." She muttered. "Didn't give me a fair fight near the end."

Dom turned around and waved at them. "Hurry, let's get in there. Apparently we have a 'Friends' fic."

Beth cheered happily and ran ahead. Billy groaned and followed and Dom glanced and turned off the PS2 before following.

~~~
Door 6 - You duck under a poster for "Lord of the Rings", Dom pausing to point and Billy smacking him, Dom rubbing his head.

Door 5 - Argh. One of those stupid drop things from Mario. Quick, run!

Door 4 - Run through the tires, quick! Billy trips and Dom grabs him, yanking him onwards.

Door 3 - Push against it, it's really heavy!

Door 2 - A drawbridge drops down and almost smashes Beth. She glares and storms across it.

Door 1 - A huge gap. Take a running jump and just barely make it!

~~~*Beth runs in, still bouncing and dancing like she's playing DDR. Billy follows, snorting at her, and Dom follows last.*~~~

Beth: Well, this can't be too bad. I can make lots of Friends references to keep myself sane.

Ross had always lusted after Monica

Beth: *curls up in a ball on the chair and cries* Ohgodohgodohgodohgod...
Dom: ... Oh god is right.

ever since she lost all her weight. Ross knew these thoughts were wrong, and that if anyone found out, they would be unbelieveably repulsed by him.

Beth: Unbelievably.
Dom: You're gonna have to keep yourself sane by sitting here and doing that, aren't you?
Beth: Only thing I can do.

Yet, Ross wanted to act on his lust, even for just one night. Ross suddenly got a great plan, but everything had to work perfectly.

Billy: However, he didn't think Chandler would be willing to tie up Monica and abandon her for the night, so that might not work.
Dom: Billy, you dirty pervert! *grins wickedly*
Beth: *coughs* Dommie?
Dom: *looks over* Yes?
Beth: *grins at him, discreetly nods at Billy* Yes?
Dom: *nods* Oh yes.

Ross had been friends with Rebecca at Monica's yogalates class for quite some time now, and Rebecca and Monica gossiped about their husbands, sex lives, etc. Rebecca was into all sorts of weird sex things, and Ross knew she wouldn't judge him.

Beth: ... Is yogalates even a type of exercise?
Billy: Sounds like some kind of food. Like, a place that serves gyros and yogalates.

"Listen Rebecca, there's something I need to ask of you, and I'll do anything for you to do it.

Billy: *as Ross* If I need to, I'll even start stalking you. When I say I'll do anything, I don't mean in a good way.
Dom: ... You know, you really do make a lot of twisted comments. Do you have some dark side that you never told me about?
Billy: *peeved* Shut up, Dom.

All you have to do, is when you're talking to Monica about your sex life, tell her that you tried something new with Dan, where you stay blindfolded, and the man doesn't talk. Ok?"

Beth: Okay. Not Ok. It's either "O.K." or "Okay", but never "Ok".
Billy: Really?
Beth: *nods*

ed Ross.

Dom: ... ed Ross? Ed Ross? Who's Ed Ross? And where did he come from?
Beth: An artist.

"Wouldn't that just help Chandler, or do you have some master plan Ross?" asked Rebecca.

Beth: Holy crap, she's sane and actually has a suspicion about him! Thank you fic, for being normal! For one brief moment, yes, but NORMAL! And there needs to be a comma after "plan".

"Me, nah, but since it's Chandler's birthday in a week, I thought that'd be my birthday present to him," said Ross. "Whatever, but you owe me Geller," said Rebecca.

Dom: She's so easily accepting of this and it's quite a suspicious ploy.
Beth: Well, of course. How else would the story work? The author might have to actually expand a plotline rather than jump straight to the sex.
Dom: Oops, silly me! ^^;
Beth: *squinches up face and eyes, sticks out tongue* That was an adorable face!
Billy: *glances over and grins* You look ravishable, Dom.
Dom: So how about a kiss then?
Billy: Uhm, no.

Rebecca was talking to Monica and of course she brought up what Ross told her. "So, Monica, Dan and I tried this great new thing in sex, where I'm blindfolded, but Dan doesn't get to talk, it was the best sex I've ever had," said Rebecca. "Really, then I've gotta try it, Chandler and I haven't had sex in more than a month and I'm starting to get in the mood," said Monica.

Beth: *coughs* Oh really? A month? I highly doubt that.
Dom: I haven't had sex in a month.
Billy: You've been up here for the last month.
Dom: You could rectify that situation.
Billy: I have no clue how to send you home. *pointedly ignores what Dom really meant*
Dom: *sighs*
Beth: *pats his shoulder*

Monica went home and immediately put on her lacy red panties, and her lacy seethrough babytop to go with it. Monica called Chandler at work, where Ross had already told Chandler's boss that he said something bad about her, so she is making him stay late.

Beth: *stares, slaps hand to face* Ouch. They cannot honestly be that lazy-Oh, wait, who am I kidding, this is badfic.
Dom: *starts to snicker madly* That is just too implausible. *laughs harder* Oh shit.
Billy: *watches Dom for a moment, and then raises his eyebrows in surprise as Dom turns and shoves his face into Billy's shoulder* Erhm?

"Hi honey, when are you coming home, because I wanna try this new sex thing where I'm blindfolded, and you don't talk at all, seems a little weird, but Rebecca says it has great results," said Monica.

Beth: *groans* This is so bad it very nearly makes fun of itself.
Billy: And the plot is so developed.
Beth: Exactly!

"Sorry honey, but I've gotta stay late, so just wait on the bed for me, and we'll do it when I get home," said Chandler as he hung up. Monica went and laid on the bed, awaiting Chandler.

Beth: ... And enter Ross!

About half an hour later, Ross came in.

Dom/Billy: Ta-da!

"Honey, I'm on the bed," said Monica. Ross was silent. "Oh I get it, already playing are we, well hold on and let me put my blindfold on," said Monica.

Dom: However, poor Monica tied it too tight and ended up crushing her brain.
Billy: If only we could do that and save ourselves from this story.

Ross went in to find his sister in her sexy lingerie, blindfolded. Ross got on the bed and immediately cupped Monica's breast and started kissing her.

Billy: ... *starts to turn green* Ew.
Beth: ... You don't want to know about the incest that people write about for you and your sister.
Billy: *stares in open horror at Beth* What!?

Monica opened her mouth to let Ross's tongue in, and their tongues danced together pleasantly.

Beth: First they did the tango.
Dom: Then the waltz.
Billy: They finished up with a foxtrot.
Beth: All in all, a good time was had.

Ross took off Monica's babytop to reveal her sexy freckled breasts.

Dom: Either that or her breasts were just very full of blackheads.
Billy: Ew.
Beth: But Monica's such a clean freak that I doubt that would happen.

Ross squeezed them hard. Ross then started sucking on one as he slid his hand down to the place he truly desired.

Beth: This reminds me of my first smut that I wrote. I just wrote very flat sentences. This could be much improved if it read "Ross squeezed them firmly, then started using his tongue on one as he slid his hand down to the place he'd longed to touch."
Dom/Billy: *stare*
Beth: ...
Dom: I fear you.

Ross slid his hand in and started rubbing Monica's tender pussy.

Beth: *crosses her legs* His entire hand!? Lube, please.

He slid two fingers in and started moving them back and forth. Monica started slightly moaning at the friction. Ross went faster and faster.

Dom: God, the plot just moves along so smoothly.
Billy: Dom, if you knock me out, I won't hold it against you. In fact, I encourage it.

Then Ross stopped and slid his head down to her panties and removed them, getting a nice view of Monica's pussy. Ross licked up her thigh till he reached her pussy and started licking it. "Honey, please stop teasing me, and just go for it!" said a horny Monica. Ross darted his tongue in and licked up and down for a while.

Beth: So, we need to give this person a thesaurus and a sex manual. You can do other stuff. Stroke, sweep, taste, tongue, flick, suck, nibble, and thrust with the tongue.
Dom: So, uh, what kind of porn do you write?
Beth: So... How's getting back to Earth looking?

Ross gripped Monica's tight ass and pushed her pussy closer to his face. Monica started moaning louder and came on Ross's tongue. Ross just slurped it all down.

Beth: *makes a slurpy noise*
Billy: Ew.

"Here honey, let me return the favor," said Monica getting off the bed. She stumbled a couple of times due to the blindfold. Monica got down on her knees and Ross sat at the edge of the bed. Monica unzipped Ross's pants.

Dom: This is just so disgusting to read.
Billy: I know. I mean, just when you think you're getting used to it, and then you realise exactly what you're reading.
Beth: ... He's going to have a giant cock, I bet.

Ross's hard cock popped through his boxers, which Monica took off quickly. "Oh my god honey, you've gotten bigger since last time, you've gotta be at least 9 inches long, and 4 inches thick," said Monica.

All: *cross their legs*
Beth: Ow. Ow. Ow.
Dom: I feel pain for Monica.
Billy: And uh, dicks aren't like shoes. They don't grow. They're one size. I mean, they're two sizes, flacid and erect, but they don't get bigger.
Beth: Unless you have a Deathcock of DOOM!
Dom/Billy: ... *stare*

Ross was pleased to hear good things about the size of his cock.

Beth: His Deathcock of DOOM!
Billy: I'm just going to... ignore that for now.
Beth: Monstrosities, Deathcocks of DOOM. Run if you see them.

Monica gripped it and started pumping it up and down till a little precum came out.

Billy: Are you an ickle wee precum? Yes! Yes you are!
Dom: *stare*
Beth: *taps Billy's head* Billy?
Billy: *shakes head* What? Sorry?
Beth: ... He's losing it.

Monica licked the precum off the end of Ross's cock, and then put about 7 inches of it in her mouth. Ross was very overjoyed to see his hot sister's head bobbing up and down on his cock.

Beth: And I'm beginning to think that I'm going to lose it myself.
Billy: *nods, make a slight gibbering noise*

Monica kept going faster and faster until Ross came inside her mouth.

Beth: The description was so tantalising.
Dom: Oh, yes. I mean, it got me so hot. *rolls his eyes*

Ross was getting happier by the minute when he saw his sister gulping down his cum. Ross didn't know how this could get any better. But then it did.

Dom: He escaped from this badfic.
Billy: Oh, if we could only hope.
Dom: Billy, my brain hurts. And the phrase "gulping down his cum" when it comes to Ross and Monica makes me want to be sick.
Beth: Hm. Perhaps I should install those barf bags again.

Monica smiled with her cum-covered, glistening smile

Billy: *leans over, retches*
Dom: *pats his back, rubs soothingly*
Beth: Definitely.

and said, "Now Chandler, I know you've been begging me for anal for a while now, and since your birthday is in a week, just consider it an early birthday present," said Monica. Ross looked up, and silently mouthed "thank you god."

Beth: ... *snickers* That's just disturbingly funny.
Billy: *more concerned about Dom* You alright, mate?
Dom: *moans weakly* I never wanted green shoes.
Billy: We'll clean you up soon.

Monica turned around and say her ass on Ross's big dick.

Dom: ... Has this author heard of the men get limp after they come concept?
Beth: No, logic does not apply to these stories. It would negate the euphoric pleasure they can never stop feeling.

Monica made a sound of pleasure when all 9 inches of Ross's dick were inside her ass.

Beth: *winces* Four inches across, nine inches long, and no lube? Oh fucking hell, OW!
Billy: *is sick again* That sounds very painful. Even if I were to ever consider sex with a guy, that would turn me off of it for sure.
Dom: *continues to rub Billy's back* Beth, how much longer?
Beth: Uh... Four.

Ross reached around to grip her breasts while watching her ass go up and down on his cock. Ross laid back and Monica spun around to face him.

Dom: INSIDE HER?!
Beth: *curls up sideways* Ouwwwwwww. Uh, can we say painful much?

Ross enjoyed the sight of his sister's bare breasts bouncing up and down while she sat on his dick. Ross got so hot by this, that he came inside his sister's ass.

Dom: Twice in what, ten minutes probably?
Beth: Completely unbelievable.

Monica got off of Ross's cum covered dick and said, "I don't know why so many women are against that, I enjoyed it a lot," said Monica.

Beth: Oh yes, I'm sure she enjoyed being taken up the ass by a huge cock without any lube and getting fucked really hard. And having herself ripped open? No problem at all.
Billy: *gags, coughs, leans over again* I'm not sure I have anything left to expel from my body.
Dom: Beth, shut up! You're not helping him or me out here!
Beth: Sorry!

"Alright honey, my pussy is ready for you, so let's get to the sex now,"

Beth: *shrieks* NO! No, no no! You just had his cock inside your ass! It is now covered with much bacteria and you're going to put that in your vagina? Woman, how sick are you!?
Dom: ... Billy? Are you-
Billy: *heaves* Oh fuck no.

said Monica laying back down on the bed and spreading her legs. Ross layed on top of her and gripped her breasts as his big cock entered her tight little pussy.

Beth: So, still not limp yet, wrong spelling of "laid" and it should be "lay" actually, and gripping? Again, ouch. I bet this author has never had sex in his life. Or her life. I'll guess male because he gave Ross such a big cock. But a female might not know a guy doesn't get soft.
Dom: ... You're going crazy.
Billy: *sits up, leans against Dom weakly* I feel bad.
Dom: *smooths back Billy's hair* It's okay, Billy.

Ross started frenching her and fucking her faster and faster. Ross loved hearing things like "OH GOD, YOU ARE SO BIG, MY PUSSY HAS NEVER BEEN STRETCHED LIKE THIS!" and "GIVE IT TO ME!" but Ross lost it when he heard "OH SHIT, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING!" and Ross and Monica both came at the exact same time.

Dom: Implausible.
Billy: And what's with the caps lock of rage?
Beth: Shows just how much they're enjoying it.

"Honey, let's just lay here and fall asleep, god, that was the best sex of my life, I wanna relive that no matter what," monica giggled. They just layed their hudled together until Monica fell asleep. Ross then snuck out back to his apartment.

Beth: "God" should be capitalised, "Monica" should also be capitalised, "lay" not layed, "there", "huddled".
Billy: It's over?
Dom: Yes.
Billy: Good.
Dom: Y`know, it would have been funny if Chandler walked in on them.
Beth: Knowing this author, Monica would have had a threesome.
Billy: *starts to look sick again*
Beth: Oops, sorry.

One Week Later(Chandler's Birthday):

"Chandler, I've got some birthday news for you, I'm pregnant," said Monica.

Beth: Says the woman who couldn't get pregnant without much struggle.
Dom: Her brother's sperm are the sperm that miracles are made of!
Billy: *groans* Dom...

"Honey, how, we haven't had sex in more than a month," said Chandler. "Ha ha, very funny, you know that exactly one week ago we had the best sex of our lives," said Monica, "remember my comments of your big cock, driving me wild?" "Honey, we both know that my dick is only 5 inches long, and I'd prefer it if you didn't joke like that," said Chandler,

Dom: *giggles* Poor Chandler.
Billy: *shifty eyes* Dom, you're mean!

"Plus, last week I got home ready for this 'great sex' you had mentioned on the phone, and you were naked and asleep." Monica paused and ran into her room looking for clues as to who really fucked her, only to find Ross's signature watch.

Billy: Obviously Monica never visits her bedroom. Miss Neat Freak would have definitely noticed it lying there.
Dom: Shhh, you're using Earth logic again.
Billy: That's right.

Monica's jaw dropped in horror as she realized that the big cock, the best sex of her life, and the father of her new baby, was her brother.

Dom: So, Ross would be the father and the uncle to the baby?
Billy: *whines* Get me some paracetamol now. And something soothing for my stomach.
Dom: Alright, let's get you out of here. *puts his arm around Billy's side* You okay?

~~~*They leave the theatre, Billy leaning on Dom for support*~~~

"Uggggh." Billy moaned, face pressed against the table's cool surface. "Dom, why do I have to read this sort of stuff?"

Dom shook his head. "You're alright, Bills, just gotta suffer through this a little more. Beth says she thinks she can reason with Aura and Lorelai to maybe send up a couple more people so we can take breaks every now and then."

Billy lifted himself up and got comfortable against Dom's shoulder and side, slumping over in his seat. "That story was absolutely disgusting." He took the paracetamol and water that Dom offered and swallowed them back. "I think I'm going to lie down for a bit."

Dom followed him into the bedroom and sat down next to him. "Want me to stay here in case you need to be sick again? Or do you just want me to get a bucket or something for you?" Dom watched as Billy settled into the bed and then leaned over to tuck him in. Billy smiled at him tiredly and shook his head. "No?"

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I'll be fine with the bucket."

Dom nodded. "Ah, alright." He got up and headed into the kitchen. "We got a bucket?"

Beth pointed underneath the sink. "We have pots. Fairly big ones. It'll work." She glanced at him. "So, seduction obviously not going to happen tonight?" She grinned. "But you looked so damn cute taking care of him."

Dom frowned at her. "Leave it alone, Beth. Nothing's going to come of it, I've decided. I'm going to just let sleeping dogs lay and not pursue this if it's going to only annoy him." He took the pot back to the bedroom and sat next to Billy. "You still alright, Bills?"

Billy nodded his head, and then blanched. "Although I'm still a bit shaky. Sudden movements are bad." He watched Dom set the pot onto the floor and then go to leave. "You don't have to leave if you don't want. I was just saying that I'll be fine either way."

Dom nodded. "I'll let you rest, then. I'll go get you more paracetamol and water in case you need it." He headed back to the kitchen to get the pills and water, catching Beth's more gentle smile on the way back and returning it. Billy was already asleep when he returned, or at least in the early vestiges of it, and as Dom set down the paracetamol and glass next to Billy, he shook his head. "Just how exactly did I end up falling for you?" He asked himself quietly.

Billy rolled over as Dom spoke and Dom backed up silently, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the door and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Oh boy, I think I might be in trouble." He groaned, just as there was a quiet thump. He opened the door quickly, looking worried. "You alright, Billy?"

Billy looked at him, where he was standing on the ground. "Yeh, I was just going to come get you. I figured that if you're going to be worried about me, you'll feel better if you were with me. Plus, it's nice to have your company."

Dom nodded and then hurried over to the bed to tuck Billy back in, sitting down next to the man and stretching out next to him. "So you're alright, aside from the general disgust towards sex ever again."

Billy nodded and closed his eyes. "Yeh, well, hopefully that'll pass soon. Elsewise, I don't think anyone will be too happy with me once we get down from here." He yawned hugely and let Dom sneak in closer to steal half the pillow. "Go get your own pillow." He whined, however, and Dom shook his head.

"Nn. I always feel better when I have someone curled up by me when I'm ill, therefore, you get the same treatment." Dom murmured, watching Billy nod into his pillow and yawn again. "Now, sleep and shut up."

Billy hummed at Dom and then fell asleep a few minutes later, Dom joining him after a bit.

Mon, 06 Mar 2006 04:56:41 GMT

Title: Lost In Translation
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: High R
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: When SG-1 gets captured in a culture that uses Asiatic symbology, Daniel finds himself struggling to translate when differences between meanings arise, and puts he and Jack in an interesting situation.
Notes: This is my second SG-1 fic only, and my first full length one, so be gentle. C&C are appreciated however. Give much thanks to my Moriko-chan, because she inspired me to write this. Set during S1. Beta'd by the same Moriko-chan.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away.

"What's that?"

"What's what? Daniel, we just arrived here. Stay in line! We don't know if there's anything out here! And after our last experience, I don't want to take that risk. Remember, Landir tried to pretty much poison us to death?"

"I don't see anyone around, Jack! Just this little piece of stone. It looks like it's part of a tablet. It's got some kind of writing on it. It's just resting on the DHD."

"Daniel, put that down! We don't know what it does. It might set off an alarm!"

"But it also could mean something. I mean, we could use this maybe to understand how to greet the foreigners. If only I could understand it. It's... it looks like some deriviation of maybe Chinese or something."

"Damnit, Daniel, let's not stand around here and wait for them to come to us!"

Jack glared at Daniel, who was still "ooh"ing over the piece of stone that, frankly, to him resembled nothing he would even deem worth picking up. Teal'c had already moved in front of them while Daniel strayed behind, still examining it, and Sam was walking and occasionally glancing between Jack and Daniel, looking vaguely amused.

Daniel frowned suddenly and turned the tablet over. "No. This isn't Chinese. It might be Japanese." He ran his fingers along the rough surface. "I learned a basic amount a few years ago, and Chinese doesn't have a phonetic system. Japanese does. There are little etchings above the symbols. But this doesn't look like any of the writing I learned." He rubbed his fingers across it again, frowned, a pinched look coming onto his face as he rubbed the base of his nose.

"Do you know what it says, or can you guess?" Jack asked, sounding exasperated. Daniel thought that Jack should have known better than to expect him to know this.

"No. I learned enough to maybe be able to converse somewhat with a foreigner in China, and even though the symbols for Japanese are derived from Chinese, they're not necessarily the same. And I only knew very basic things about the languages. I mean, if I knew a few words, I know that the writing characters build off the base symbols and add strokes, so I might be able to eventually figure it out, but I would need some time. It does look sort of familiar. It might be a form of writing that evolved from Japanese." Jack sighed, almost too loudly, and Daniel wished that he would just be quiet for a moment so he could focus. "Maybe I could ask the natives, if we find any, to give me a bit of help?"

"Jack, did you hear that?" Sam motioned towards a patch of large bushes that appeared to be growing long fern-like leaves. Jack turned towards it, shook his head. "I swear I heard something."

Jack focused on the area and Teal'c raised his staff weapon, preparing it if necessary. Daniel paused a moment from his study of the rock and looked up. "Do we think there's something wrong?" He guessed. Jack shook his head, indicating to Daniel to be quiet, and Daniel hushed himself. Where have I seen this before? He thought to himself. It's like... something with ... their time.

Sam motioned again to the brush and Teal'c took a step closer with Jack. However, he couldn't hear anything, and Jack turned to Sam. "Are you sure you're not just paranoid, Carter? I don't hear anything."

Time. Time, and stars. I know I've seen this before. It's... Daniel suddenly remembered in a flash. The Chinese Zodiac. This looked practically identical to one of the signs. "Ah!" He shouted triumphantly. Jack spun around and stared at him.

"Do you not understand the meaning of be quiet?" Jack growled out. Daniel internally winced for about a split-second, but then motioned at the rock.

"It's a sort of zodiac, I think. I mean, not all of it, but I think it represents part of their zodiac system." Daniel peered at it. "But I don't think that these etchings are part of the original tablet. Chinese doesn't have phonetic writing, but Japanese does, but this looks like the Chinese zodiac." He tapped the tiny writing above the symbols. "Or who knows, maybe it is, and this is a completely different race."

Sam walked over to Daniel, inspected it. "Colonel, you might want to look at this. If Daniel's right, you might be able to help us figure this out, since you are interested in this." She glanced at him and Jack slid in behind Daniel, looked at it closely.

"Oh?" He asked. But his expression was interested now, and Daniel felt him press up closer, felt his body heat directly behind him, caught a whiff of his cologne, and fought the urge to shiver. "Let me see, then." He leaned over Daniel's shoulder. "You're right. It does look like that. It looks like the symbol for horse, if I remember correctly. But it has extra lines. So they might have based it off the zodiac, you're right."

"What year is it?" Daniel asked. "Or might it be a different year for them here? Or could it be a tribal sort of name? What exactly do you think we're looking at?" Jack moved away, and Daniel felt the cool air against his back again slide in through his outfit, wished that Jack was still behind him. Wanted to feel Jack's chest to his back, skin to skin, but this was not the time to think about that.

"Daniel, I have no idea."

"O'Neill!" Teal'c's voice alerted them from their inspection of the rock and they glanced up sharply. "There are incoming foreigners." He had advanced to the brush and Sam followed him. "They look hostile."

Sam stepped forward, peered past the brush. "It's angled so that someone could watch from behind the bushes but not be seen if they crawled away. I'm going to say that someone spied on us and got the villagers."

"Or maybe the army." Jack said darkly as he too got a look at the now rapidly advancing band of fifty or so people. They looked Asian in nature, holding swords that gleamed almost blue under the sun. Daniel blinked and stared as he moved up behind Jack.

"This seems like an obvious given, but metal doesn't gleam blue generally. So care to explain to me why theirs does?" He glanced past Jack to Sam and Teal'c, who were in the front. Teal'c glanced back at them and shook his head.

"I do not know. This is unlike any weapon I have seen before." Teal'c answered. As the apparent army approached, they stalled and formed a half-circle around the members of SG-1. They held their swords raised, except for one, who wore a heavier layer of armor than the rest of them. He approached and looked at them, and then spoke.

"Darayka?" Or, at least, that was what Daniel heard. He supposed that he might not be right, considering he didn't know what language the man was speaking. "Nanshi maska?" Daniel listened more carefully, because he didn't have a clue now what the language was. It was definitely not something he knew. And it didn't seem like a friendly greeting.

"Daniel, do you know what he's saying?" Daniel glanced over at Jack, shook his head slowly.

"No. He doesn't have his sword raised, so I'm going to assume that he is not hostile and that they only will attack if we attack first." Daniel answered back. He held out the piece of stone tablet. "Do you remember the word for horse in Chinese?"

"No, but I only learned about the zodiac, not Chinese, Daniel." Jack's tone was again tetchy, and Daniel felt a flare of annoyance that Jack didn't bother to learn about the origins. "Do you know what it was in Japanese? Or Chinese, since you studied it." Jack asked back, looking skeptical as to Daniel's motions. Daniel furrowed his brow again, thought about it. U something. U...ra? And Chinese was E?

"Ura? E?" Daniel motioned. "Horse?" He didn't know if he was making his point at all. "Do you know what I'm saying?" He coughed. "Wakarimasuka?" They frowned at him. "E?" He asked again, motioning. He tapped the writings. "Kimi o kakimashitaka?"

The captain, or seemingly captain, frowned at him, and then turned to his troops, spoke quickly, and Daniel couldn't even catch a word that sounded familiar except for "gaikokujin" and "heion", which he recognised as "foreigners" and "peace". Damn him for not learning more. What exactly was the man saying?

And then the army started pressing in closer. Teal'c began to aim his weapon but Daniel shook his head. "No, I heard him say peace. Hold on for a moment." However, a moment was exactly what they needed to grab him from behind, jerking his arms roughly, and he felt a sharp pain in his wrist, wondered dimly if it was broken. Next to him, Jack was in much the same situation, and Sam was already being pulled away from them, along with Teal'c.

"Hey! What's going on?" Jack shouted roughly. "What about peace, Daniel?" He was gagged rudely with a strip of cloth that one warrior tore from underneath his armor and Daniel felt his own restraint being put in his mouth. Sam was struggling, as was Teal'c. He managed to break free for a moment and send a fast attack at his nearest attacker, but said attack deflected off his metal and shot back at him and he grunted as it struck him.

What the hell? Daniel thought. They can deflect Goa`uld technology? And then a strike to his head caused him to blink, watch the swarm of darkness, and drift into a state of unconsciousness.

~~~

Ow.

That was Daniel's first thought as he came to again. Next to him, Jack was lying, unconscious himself. A trickle of blood had leaked from his skull and although they were not handcuffed, they were locked in what appeared to be a cement cell of sorts. There was only light that came through in small holes no bigger than his fist that lined the back wall about three quarters of the way up.

Thanks to that, he could see Jack, but not very well. It was as if he was peering at the man as dusk fell upon them. He leaned over and carefully wiped at the blood, licked his fingers, smeared at it again, patted it gently with his sleeve. "Jack."

Jack grunted as Daniel gave him a harder tap to the skull. "Ow. Fuck. Ow. That's my head. And that hurts." He waved at Daniel, slapped his wrist away, and sat up, wincing and letting out a loud heave of air. "Christ, does my head hurt."

Daniel looked around him. There was nothing on the walls to help him identify where he was. "Are you alright?" He asked even as he looked around, and then refocused on Jack. Jack leaned against the wall and nodded.

"I'm fine. How about you?" Daniel shrugged and went to lift his hand to do a so-so motion, felt a jerk of pain again. Shit. That was the hand that had gotten hurt. He winced and dropped his hand back down. "Let me see that." Jack took Daniel's arm gently, ran his fingers along the skin, across his hand and wrist and forearm, and Daniel shuddered, because it didn't hurt at all. That felt good. And then Jack pressed down carefully at the base of Daniel's wrist and-

-"Hey! Jesus, that hurts! Jack, what are you doing?" Daniel yanked his hand away but Jack held on and grabbed his bicep with his other arm. Daniel froze, as did Jack for a moment, and then Jack continued a more careful examination, pushing every now and then and earning another irritated curse from Daniel, but overall, being a bit kinder.

"It looks like a sprain, but it's not bad. Just going to be painful for a while. It might be a while longer if we don't get out of here." Jack motioned around them. "So that we can get you real medical treatment."

"Where's Sam and Teal'c?" Daniel asked suddenly. Jack shook his head. "We've been separated, I'm assuming?"

"Yeah." Jack was silent after that. "I saw them hit you, and they were taking Teal'c away in a different direction from us. And they had his weapon, not that it mattered, since apparently not only do they have a metal that gleams blue, but it also manages to protect against his weapon."

"Too bad, hm?" Daniel asked. "I mean, if they hadn't attacked us, we might have been able to get something to study to maybe help us out."

"Daniel?" Jack's voice was quiet. "What exactly did you ask them that might have caused them to attack us?" Daniel frowned at them. "Well, I mean, you were the only one who said anything."

"All I asked was if it was the symbol for horse and if they wrote it on the rock." Daniel sighed tiredly. And then he paused. "I mean, I think I asked horse. Ura." He thought about that a bit more. Ura. That still doesn't sound quite right. U... ta? No, that's song. Uma? Shit. Yeah. That was it. Uma. Ura... is... He squinted at nothing. "Ura... it... sounds familiar. What might have caused them to attack us? Maybe an offensive word, or... offensive. Like, attack."

"What are you talking about, Daniel?" Jack asked, frowning at him.

Daniel looked at Jack and then away. "I may, uh, have said something that would make them attack us." Jack raised his eyebrow. "Not intentionally."

"Well, I'm sure they'll understand that. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be instigating. I just happened to mutter a word that would make you attack us. Can we go now?'" Jack stared at Daniel rather flatly and Daniel glared at him for a moment.

"Would you just let me think about this a moment? Ura is..." What was ura? It sounded familiar too. Ura was... "Reverse! Back!" Daniel jerked his head up suddenly. Jack stared him. "Ura means reverse. But it has another meaning too. It means... uhm, I remember this." He stood up, began to pace back and forth. "It's got a negative connotation to it. It means something hidden, but it's more like if you were to deceive someone."

"And?" Jack tapped his fingers on the floor. "So you asked them if they were a horse or deceiving? What?"

Daniel shook his head. "No, no. I asked if they wrote "horse". But I asked them "horse, deceit", I think. And then I asked if they wrote it."

"So why would they attack us?" Jack crossed his arms and Daniel stopped pacing. "Got any clue about that?" Daniel stopped pacing and looked at him, saw the annoyance written on his face, and felt a slight realisation settle through him that he'd screwed them up, didn't know why, didn't know how.

Daniel shook his head and sat down again. "No. I don't know why they would attack us. I guess maybe they thought that since we said deceit, we... I don't know, Jack." Daniel leaned against the cold wall. "I really don't know. And we don't know where Sam or Teal'c are, and I don't know if they're planning on leaving us alive or dead, torturing us or what. I really don't."

Jack looked at him, was silent, and Daniel lowered his face to his hands, tried to think of some way to help the situation, letting out an exasperated groan. Fuck. This was not going well already.

~~~

A few hours later, Daniel had not made any progress. He was failing to see how the words "horse" and "deceit" might cause them to attack. He began to replay it in his head again. "Ura. E. Wakarimasuka. Kimi o kakimashitaka." He rubbed his head again, feeling a lump on the side of his head. He was getting hungry and his headache was not getting any better. But he wanted to find some connection. Their lives might depend on it.

"Daniel, take a break already. You've been sitting there rubbing your head, rubbing your eyes, rubbing your wrist, pacing, and driving both of us crazy since you woke me up." Jack snapped irritably. Daniel glanced at him.

"I just... I'm trying to figure out what I did. I mean, I literally asked 'horse, horse, do you understand? Did you write this?'"

Jack nodded at him. "You asked them horse twice?" He had undone the first button of his outfit, because the room was rather muggy, although it had darkened considerably. It seemed that the humidity had risen as night fell. Daniel looked at him and felt something in his brain start to connect.

"Yeah. I..." Pacing back and forth faster than ever, he thought about it. "I asked them in Japanese and Chinese. I mean, I don't even know if they speak Japanese or Chinese, because what they were speaking sounded similar but I only recognised a couple words, and so maybe it's an evolved form of that, maybe a combination or just of one or the other. But I asked them first in Japanese and then Chinese."

"But you didn't ask them horse in Japanese." Jack reminded him. "You said deceit, or something like that."

Daniel stared at him. "Yeah." He repeated. "Deceit, horse, do you understand." He bit his lip. "But still, unless they were a tribe or something that took the horse as their name...I don't understand how I could have offended them."

Just then, there was a rumbling. Both Jack and Daniel looked over to see a small hole in the granite that held them, about a foot long and half a foot high, open. Two trays of what Daniel assumed to be food were pushed inside, followed by two bowls that contained what appeared to be water, and then the stone was replaced. "Well, obviously, we're going to be kept alive." Jack remarked.

Daniel crossed to the food and picked it up. "It's rice of some sort and meat." The rice was covered in black and green spices, the meat with an semi-clear orange sauce that he poked at carefully. "No silverware. I'm assuming we're to eat this like dogs."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Not exactly the most welcoming of hosts." Daniel shrugged and picked up the bowl, took a careful sip of the liquid. "Water?"

"Water." Daniel confirmed. "Tastes like well water, though." Jack got to his feet and headed over to his own food. Sliding down on that wall, Daniel laced the food in his lap and tapped one finger into the sauce, licked it off his finger, noticed Jack watching him. "What? I want to make sure it tastes alright before I shove an entire piece of it into my mouth."

Jack shook his head, negating what Daniel just said, but he didn't explain further. Daniel made a face and wiped at the sauce again, pushing it off to the side before sucking his finger clean. "Don't like the taste?" Jack asked in amusement, still watching Daniel's mouth.

Daniel shook his head. "But I had to get it off my finger so it was just easier to do that than wipe it off on my pants or something." He took a bite of the meat. "It's pretty good."

Jack took his own tentative taste and swallowed. "Sort of tastes like chicken." He commented. Daniel glanced over at him and began to laugh. "What? The only thing I can think of that would make you laugh at me is if you were thinking about The Lion King."

Daniel shook his head. "No, actually, Sam and I were eating food and I commented on how it tasted like chicken. She asked what was wrong with it, and I answered back that it was macaroni and cheese."

Jack stared at him for a moment and then began to laugh, quiet at first but growing in strength and making Daniel feel slightly more at ease for the first time since they'd gotten to this planet. "Yeah, I've had my share of those meals." He sighed. "Wish we had some beer or something."

Daniel curled his fingers and scooped some rice into his hands. It was fairly hot and as he brought it to his mouth and poured it as carefully as he could, still spilling a few pieces down his front, he found it good, slightly sweet. The spices were apparently some sort of sugar-like flavouring. "Yeah. Or back on Earth."

"Look, Daniel, you've been stressing about this since we got here. Why don't you take a break?" Jack asked. Daniel felt the pulse in his head that told him to listen to Jack, because his headache wasn't getting any better. "Take a nap or something. Here." Jack set his plate down and got his jacket from where he'd left it, rolling it up into a ball. "Your own pillow." He said. "Or if you get cold, you can use that as a blanket. Though I doubt you will be, since I'm sweating right now."

Daniel nodded. "Thanks." He fell silent again for a moment. "So what do you think's going on?" He set about eating again, faster, before the meat cooled. He had to keep licking his fingers, however, when the orange stuff would get on them occasionally, and each time he did, Jack would smirk slightly as he watched.

Jack was quiet for a while and Daniel thought that Jack was going to ignore him, but finally Jack spoke again. "I don't know. However, they're obviously keeping us alive for a while, so I'm going to think it's safe to assume you can stop worrying for a couple hours and get some rest."

Daniel finished his meal before Jack, drank deeply from the bowl, and set it back down. The food settled in his stomach quickly, and he began to grow drowsy as his body set about digesting. "Thanks, Jack." He murmured as he stretched out and wrapped his arm loosely around Jack's jacket, used it as a pillow, settling his head into the thick cushiony material. Smelled like Jack. That comforted him even more, and he inhaled deeply, relaxing, drifting.

After a few minutes, Jack whispered Daniel's name quietly, got no response, and leaned over, watching him, shaking his head. Pushed a few strands of hair off Daniel's face carefully, and then brought his hand back to his lap, as if unsure whether or not to comfort the man.

~~~

When Daniel woke, his headache was gone and Jack had curled up next to him. Daniel fumbled for his glasses, which had fallen off and were a few inches away. He rubbed his eyes before he put them on and looked at Jack. The man had removed his shirt and balled it up in his own make-shift pillow. Arm lying loosely against his hip and dangling in front of his groin, his face was turned mostly away from the dim light now filtering in through the little holes of the wall. Daniel followed the shadows that dipped into Jack's neck and traveled his chest, creating valleys of darkness.

Jack shifted in his sleep, tilted more towards Daniel, and his chest disappeared more while his back became slightly more visible. Daniel noted the way that his chest rose and fell, his arm slid further forward, and he watched the big muscles of Jack's shoulder and upper back shift with it.

Slowly, Daniel sat up, not letting his gaze break away from Jack's. However, his recent movements had created enough noise to weave itself into Jack's brain, wake him up, and he rolled over with a grunt and propped himself up on his elbows before sitting up fully and yawning, looking at Daniel. "Morning."

Daniel nodded at him. "Morning, Jack. Think we'll get a gourmet breakfast or what?"

Jack glanced over as he unfurled his now wrinkled shirt and slid it on, but didn't button it. Daniel took the opportunity as he looked to where the food had been last time to steal his own glance at Jack's chest in the better light.

"Well, they've left us something. It just looks like cold fish or something and bread." Jack got to his feet, stretched, and winced as his back let out a pop. "That is not a comfortable floor."

Daniel shook his head as he joined Jack over by the food and picked up a plate, sniffed it. "This really doesn't smell appetising."

Jack shook his head, but took a bite anyways. "It's... " He paused. "Interesting." Daniel looked at his face, saw the way that his lips curled just slightly as he chewed and swallowed. "Doesn't taste like any kind of fish I've ever had before. A lot saltier. Like, marinated in the stuff."

Daniel got a funny look on his face. "Marinated, Jack? That usually refers to liquid, like wine. Like, having chicken marinated in wine."

"Daniel." Jack looked at him with a dry expression on his face, raised eyebrows, and Daniel sheepishly looked away.

"Yeah. Sorry." He managed to get down about half the fish before he couldn't eat anymore. He took a long draft of the bowl of water before taking a bite of the bread, which was also fairly sweet tasting. "There's writing on this dish," he commented, "and it looks familiar. It looks like the Japanese kanji for food and then bread. I didn't even think to look at the plates last night."

He picked up the bowls from last night and found inscriptions on them too. "Same thing. Food, rice, and meat. All in Japanese, or at least really similar to Japanese. I mean, there's a couple extra strokes here too, for meat." He rubbed his head. "So I'm assuming that we've been captured by Japanese people of sorts."

"Does 'e' mean anything in Japanese?" Jack asked. Daniel shook his head.

"It's a participle for speaking, like if you said 'I am going', you could use it there. And it also means art, but it doesn't mean anything else that I know of. I don't know a lot of Japanese, still. You have to remember that. Why?"

"Because you asked them horse in Chinese, which you say is 'e'. I was wondering if you might have said something wrong with that too, and adding in deceit..." Jack watched as Daniel suddenly got to his feet, looking excited and motioning at him.

"Jack, you might just be on to something!" Daniel began to pace back and forth yet again, talking to himself, thinking out loud. "That tablet looked like the Chinese symbol for horse. And..." Daniel stopped pacing. "It's right there. I can almost get it." He closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead. "I just need to think."

Jack watched him as he struggled with remembering something. "Japan, China, deceit..." Daniel mumbled. "China, Japan... They... they've been at odds." He lifted his head. "They've been at war. That's it!"

Jack blinked at him. "What's it, Daniel?" And now Daniel was off again, walking back and forth, gesticulating for a moment before wincing as his wrist reminded him that it was injured. "Daniel, care to explain to me this brilliant idea you've just had?"

Daniel picked up the bowl and pointed at the writing. "All the writing here is Japanese. The first thing I said was in Japanese, but I said deceit first, and then I said horse. Japan and China were at war years ago. They might have interpreted what I said when I said deceit and then saying something in Japanese as possibly aggressive. And we found that tablet with the Chinese writing on it, and Japanese writing above it. So there are definitely Chinese and Japanese descendants of sorts on this planet. What if they never stopped being at war?"

"So, because you translated something incorrectly and then spoke Chinese, you've gotten us thrown in this ... holding cell?" Jack asked, looking slightly pissy.

Daniel scowled at him. "But why was there Japanese writing on the Chinese tablet?" He asked out loud. He sat back down and rubbed his fingers in slow lines across the characters written on the bowl. "I mean, it doesn't make sense. It's almost like they were claiming it or something." He paused. "Claiming it."

Jack raised his head. "I'm guessing that it gets worse."

Daniel's eyes were wide. "Names. It was names. Those extra strokes that appear, they're markers! They're the name of the people who live here. Hachi."

"Hachi?" Jack asked. Daniel held up eight fingers. "Eight?"

"Yeah. But it could mean something else here. I told you I didn't understand what they were saying. They might have a different form of speech. That tablet, if what I'm thinking is correct, was to show anyone of the Chinese descendants not to come any further and to turn back. It was a warning. The signature of the Hachi was on it. And they would need something important to represent the Chinese. Maybe the Chinese descendants here call themselves "e", or horse people." Daniel took in a long breath of air. "And we don't look anything like the Chinese descendants, but the fact that I had the tablet and knew any Chinese and said the wrong word..."

He groaned suddenly. "Shit. This is all my fault, Jack." He dropped back down to his knees and looked down. "Shit. I didn't mean to get us into this situation. I mean, I knew that the Japanese and Chinese didn't get along and we were on a foreign planet and..." He shook his head.

Jack watched him as he stared at the floor. "Daniel, it's not that bad. I'm just in a bad mood and I'm taking it out on you a little." He leaned over and put his hand on Daniel's shoulder, squeezed his arm lightly. Daniel didn't respond.

"Yeah, but if they think we're enemies already, I'm not sure it's going to be very easy to convince them otherwise." Daniel sighed. "And my skills in speaking Chinese are slightly better than my Japanese. Which doesn't help us in this situation. I can talk very basic things, such as, 'Where is the toilet' and 'Can I have some sushi'. Things like that. I don't know how to do peace negotiations."

Jack shook his head. "Try your best?" But Daniel was still slumped on the floor, mumbling to himself now. "Daniel?"

"Sumimasen, demo, watashi ga chigau hanashimashita. Namae wa Danieru Jyakuson." Daniel said. "But what else? Mo nihonjin mo chuugokujin ja nai. Chikyuu ni kara kurimashita. Share. Share. Uhm... I can't think of the word for share. Shit, Jack, I don't even know if I remember enough to talk to them. And I don't even know if it will matter, since they have a deriviation of Japanese, I'm thinking." Daniel rubbed his eyes, fingers clenched tightly into fists. "Shit, shit, shit. Kuso. Oh, that won't help me at all."

Jack put his arm around Daniel's shoulder carefully, rubbed his arm. "Daniel." But Daniel still ignored him.

"Gomen nasai. Watashitachi wa ja'aku na ja nai." Daniel groaned. "No, that doesn't sound right. We're not bad." His hair was blowing in his face and he shoved it away impatiently. "Goddamnit. Uhm, chimu wa doko desuka? Guaurudo wa ja'aku mo ja nai..." He shook his head, upsetting his hair again, dropping it back in his face. He pushed it away again but it dropped right in front of his eyes. "They're not going to understand me. And I didn't understand their culture."

Jack pulled Daniel closer. "You couldn't have, Daniel. Stop blaming yourself for this. And please start talking in English, I can't understand a word you're saying." Daniel heaved a sigh. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm afraid I've gotten us all into a situation we're not going to ever get out of." Daniel looked at Jack, eyes tired, face worried, body slumped against Jack now, seemingly crushed. "Just because I misinterpreted one word. Hell, I'm not positive on all of what I'm trying to say now."

Jack didn't seem to know he was doing it, but his fingers gently rubbed the back of Daniel's neck, worked along the tense muscles, and Daniel sighed, leaned into Jack more. "It's alright." Jack soothed him gently. His other arm clamped around Daniel's torso, but not firmly, just holding Daniel there. "Stop thinking. You're going to confuse yourself more if you worry too much. You'll only make it worse for yourself. I'd like to get out of here but we'll deal with that as the time comes."

Daniel groaned and shook his head. "No, I need to figure this out now-" He started to protest, shuddering as he tried to pull away from Jack, but Jack grabbed his chin, forced Daniel to look at him.

"No, you need to take a break from this. You've just figured out a hell of a lot in a few minutes and you're only stressing yourself out. You need to rest for a little bit, Daniel. Just relax and..." Jack shook his head, trailed off. "Alright?"

Daniel frowned. "Who are you and what have you done with Jack O'Neill?"

"Shut up, Daniel."

Daniel looked at Jack, blinked slowly, nodded, and started to pull away, but Jack's grip was firm, holding him there, and he didn't struggle. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on Jack's. And then Jack leaned in close, eyelids falling partly shut, and Daniel didn't pull away, placed one hand on Jack's knee, the other on the arm holding him, and shuddered again as Jack's lips brushed his.

They parted for a moment, and then Jack was kissing Daniel more firmly, short and brief and sparks flying between them, Daniel gripping Jack's arm and Jack's fingers wrapping around Daniel's neck and pulling him in closer. But when Daniel breathed out Jack's name, Jack jerked away sharply and stared at Daniel. "Oh, fuck." He swore. "I..." He looked away, and Daniel found himself staring with an injured expression at Jack, but Jack refused to look at him now.

And then the stone for food or perhaps checking on them was being slid aside and Daniel got up, made a diving leap for it. "Sumimasen, demo, namae wa Danieru!" He shouted. The food being slid in paused. "Chikyuu ni kara kumashita. Watashitachi wa ja'aku na ja nai!" He spoke desperately and then there was a louder rumbling. He backed away as the wall started to shift. It appeared to have a door, but the stone was so closely fitted that he couldn't even find the cracks until the door started to push inward and then aside.

"Kimi to watashi ga hanashimasuka?" Daniel asked, knowing he was barely comprehensible in Japanese, not knowing if they would understand. But it appeared that they got the gist, because a man stepped inside. The man who had appeared to be the leader.

"Namae wa Yukio desu." He stated. Daniel bowed his head, and the man bowed his in return. "Danieru-san." And then he was speaking again, far too fast for Daniel to understand everything. Daniel shook his head.

"Kakimasuka?" He feigned writing. "Wakarimasen." Yukio looked at him and then nodded, exiting, closing the door, and then a few minutes later, returning with paper and a writing utensil of sorts. He began to draw the symbols quickly and Daniel peered at them. Most of them were similar enough to what he'd learned and Yukio wrote some of the phonetics above them, and Daniel found himself more at ease. "Ah." He said. "Okinawajin to kimi no jin wa chuugakujin o tatakaite, kimi o shori shimashitaka?" It appeared that the Japanese and Okinawa people had come together to fight the Chinese.

The man nodded solemnly. "Kimi wa ... Amerikajin desuka?"

Daniel nodded in relief. "Hai. Hai. Totemo Amerikajin." The man actually smiled slightly and Daniel realised that they were going to be okay. "Chimu. Watashitachi no chimu wa doko desuka?"

~~~

Two hours later, things were sorted out. From what Daniel could tell, back on Earth, the people of Okinawa had been invaded by the Chinese looking for sulfur. They had been developing weapons more advanced but the Okinawa had joined with Japan to stop them, and ended up going to this planet through the Stargate. There, the Chinese were unable to get the reserves of sulfur they wanted from Okinawa, on a new place, and the Okinawa had fought back and eventually defeated the Chinese.

And over the last few centuries, the language had evolved and changed and now there was Chinese, Japanese, and a new language that was a form of more complex Japanese being spoken. That was what Daniel had heard Yukio first speaking, and that explained why he couldn't understand it. They were taken to their team, and found Teal'c to be unharmed, and managed to recover his weapon.

They also found out that there was a metal on this planet that the Japanese had managed to create that would deflect Goa'uld technology, just as Daniel had believed. However, it was so limited that the Japanese were unwilling to give up even a few grams of it, because only a few grams was necessary to create a sword, but they only had about a hundred swords total.

Sam was also relatively unharmed, although she looked a bit annoyed. "Took you long enough." She muttered to Daniel. Daniel raised his eyebrows, and then saw Jack talking to Teal'c, found himself staring at Jack.

What had happened back there? Jack had kissed him. And then what? Jack had been upset over kissing him? He'd pulled away so fast and wouldn't look at Daniel. What had even caused Jack to kiss him? It didn't make any sense. Daniel didn't know. And it was painful to him because he very deeply cared about Jack, and hell, he would admit it. He'd fallen in love with Jack when they'd met the first time, and thought about him constantly while he was waiting for the man to return. And then he had returned and his emotions had come back just as hard and more powerful than he could believe at first.

As they made their way back to the Stargate, Daniel overheard one of the men escorting them speaking, and caught the words "female", "blonde", and "reformed prostitute". He snorted suddenly. Recently, Japanese women with blonde hair tended to be prostitutes. Obviously the men believed that Sam was a reformed one, thanks to her apparel. Sam looked at him and he shook his head, trying desperately not to laugh. He didn't think Sam would appreciate the joke.

The men had believed Teal'c was their leader, since he had the weapon and was in front, and so had separated them from him and Sam from the men. But now they were together, back at the Stargate, and as Daniel entered in their home destination, Jack stepped up first to the Stargate and stepped into it, followed by Sam and then Teal'c, and Daniel followed last, leaving behind the civilisation.

~~~

A few weeks later, Daniel decided that something had to be done. He couldn't stop thinking about the kiss. Jack had sung shining praise about him in the debriefing (as shining as Jack's praise could get), saying that Daniel stayed calm (yeah, right) in bad circumstances and managed to salvage enough of what little Japanese he knew to get them out of there. Hammond was not pleased with them because they'd given everyone quite a scare, but it wasn't as if he could change anything, and all four members of SG-1 discreetly failed to mention the new metal they'd learnt of. And Jack had been acting quite strange around him now. Not cold, but withdrawn.

So he approached Jack finally and looked at him. "Can I come over tonight?" Point blank. Just ask him straight out. It would be best. Jack looked at him, shrugged.

"Sure, Daniel."

And when they were both settled into separate seats, Jack by the ugly lamp that he owned, beer nestled between his thighs (Daniel struggled against staring at that, because hello, phallic object.) and Daniel opposite him, staring at the floor, trying to figure out how to do this, Jack toed the carpet with his sock-covered foot. "I'm guessing you invited yourself over for a reason?" He asked Daniel.

Daniel took a swig of beer. Might as well do this while he was sober and in control of his mouth. Fairly in control. "Why did you kiss me, Jack?"

Jack paused for a nanosecond midsip of his own beer, and then brought it back down to the table next to him. He was quiet for a long moment and Daniel began to think that he shouldn't have said anything.

"You needed the comfort." Jack said finally. Daniel stared in shock.

"That wasn't comfort, Jack. Comfort would be talking to me, hugging me if necessary. That was kissing, that was intimate, and that was something else. That was something instigated by you."

"And what if it was?" Jack asked suddenly, staring hard at Daniel. "What if it was something more than just comfort?" Daniel shut himself up abruptly, wondering if Jack was admitting to having feelings for him. He probably shouldn't have because Jack seemed to take it the wrong way and shut up himself. "I shouldn't have said anything." His expression was cloudy, dark, and Daniel licked his lips before making his decision.

"You should have kept kissing me." He murmured. Stood up, walked across the room, placed his knees on either side of Jack's, and pushed him against the back of the chair as he kissed him hard, hungrily, and slid a hand underneath Jack's shirt, fuck the consequences that might come. Jack was surprised for a moment, didnt react except for a gasp of air, and then his fingers tangled into Daniel's hair, tightened, brought him in tight and close.

Daniel parted his mouth slightly, let his tongue inch forward to swipe Jack's lips, and felt the wetness of Jack's tongue meeting his, moaned against Jack. Fuck yes, this was right. Whatever thought might have been about to come to his head, however, got lost as Jack let his fingers slide from Daniel's hair to his hips, pulling him hard against Jack's lap, letting him feel the erection that dug into his ass.

"Oh god." Daniel breathed as he tore his mouth away. Jack stared at him, brown eyes so hot and dark that Daniel almost moaned, and instead shuddered. "God, Jack, I want you. Want to feel you touching me. Need you to touch me." Jack stared at him, leaned in slowly, drew his tongue around the shell of Daniel's ear and then to his neck, sucked, bit lightly just above his collarbone, and Daniel came unraveled, melting into Jack's arms. "Please." He begged.

Jack stood, and Daniel tightened his legs around Jack's hips, feeling them moving towards Jack's bedroom, feeling himself being pinned to the bed and Jack grinding against him slowly, on top of him, heavy, good, bliss, heat and desire and fucking perfection rising from where he kissed, touched, ground against Daniel. Pants were discarded quickly, shirts following them, and then Jack's chest against his, hot. Daniel shivered, because as hot as he was, the air in the room was cool, and it felt so good at the same time, sparks practically burning him where Jack touched and then being chilled by the midaugust breeze that flowed into the room through the semi-open window.

"Have you ever done this before?" Jack asked as he reached over to fish out a condom and a slim bottle that Daniel realised was lube from the bedside table drawer. Daniel shook his head. "Do you want to wait before we do this?" His eyes, shockingly concerned, and Daniel shook his head, staring into them.

He rocked up against Jack, sliding their erections past each other, and Jack let out a muffled groan against Daniel's skin. "I mean, I've been with women, obviously. But you're the first guy..." He trailed off as Jack kissed him hard again.

"Christ, Danny." He whispered after he pulled back a moment later. Daniel shivered at the nickname and then heard, watched Jack open the bottle, squeeze the clear liquid onto his fingers. And Daniel felt Jack spread his legs, push them up, and then two fingers pressing into him. Daniel clenched his muscles and Jack paused. "Relax." He whispered. Daniel took in a long breath, felt Jack slide down and then a wet heat envelop his cock.

"OhfuckJack!" He panted out, arching upwards instantly, driving Jack's fingers deep into him and wincing. But Jack didn't move his fingers, just hollowed his cheeks and gave a long, wet suck to Daniel's cock, earning another cry from Daniel.

"Vocal, aren't you?" Jack asked from between Daniel's thighs, and Daniel bucked his hips slightly towards Jack's mouth. "Ready for me to go on?" He teased gently, breath warm above Daniel's cock, and Daniel didn't think he'd ever been quite as hard as he was then. Jack twisted his fingers, scissored them slowly, stretching Daniel, and after a few minutes, Daniel found himself relaxed, and Jack practically nuzzling the insides of his thighs before lifting himself back up. "It's gonna hurt a bit more, Danny," He whispered, "but I'll go as slow as you need me to."

Daniel felt Jack shifting above him, sliding on the condom, slicking the lube along his cock, and then pressing forward again. The head of Jack's cock slid past his entrance, and Jack went slow, steady, Daniel gripping Jack's shoulders and feeling the sleek shift of muscle underneath the skin, focusing on that rather than the pain. And gradually, he adjusted to Jack inside of him, nodded, felt Jack withdraw, thrust forward slowly.

Daniel wrapped his legs around Jack's hips, drew him closer. Jack's fingers slid down to wrap around his cock, start a slow stroking, and Daniel arched up into his touch again. Jerked and let out a breathy shriek on the next thrust because Jack hit that spot inside of him that made him feel every inch of him was suddenly tingling.

And then he was lost in Jack's touches again, burning and aching until he came with a cry, Jack following him moments later, gripping his shoulder and kissing him hard.

And as Jack let out a long sigh, carefully withdrew and removed the condom, tied it off, and lay down next to Daniel, who figured he had nothing else to lose.

"Jack, don't take this the wrong way, but ... I love you." He said it fast, almost questioning, and watched Jack out of the corner of his eye. Jack lay there for a moment and lifted himself up on his elbow.

"... How am I supposed to take that the wrong way?" Jack's expression, skeptical and amused. Daniel looked at him. "Only way I can figure is if I take it to mean this was a one night thing and you love me as a friend."

"I don't... no. I mean it as more than that."

Jack nodded and pulled Daniel to him, rolling him over so that he was tucked against Jack's side, and Daniel propped his chin on Jack's shoulder. "Daniel, you should know something." Jack said, eyes suddenly glinting as he ran his fingers down Daniel's back and cupped his asscheeks. "The feeling is definitely mutual."

And Daniel lay there, closing his eyes. "Good to know." He breathed out as he tightened his arm around Jack's torso. And finally, he thought he understood.

Sun, 05 Mar 2006 17:35:30 GMT

Title: The Perfect Everything (3/12)
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: R
Pairing: BB/DM, DM/EL
Summary: All Dom wants is the perfect life with Evey until Billy comes back into his life a week before he's about to get married, and he finds himself becoming confused.
Notes: This is not a hate-fic towards Evey. If Dom and Evey get together, yaye! I mean, they're both gorgeous. I'm happy for them. I just think that Dom and Billy would be hot, so I wrote this. Also, every time I write EL in the pairing spot, I think Kal-el. Geeky much? :D
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away!

Billy.

Dom's fingers fell away from the doorknob, completely unaware of them doing that, clenched at his sides with a sudden sharpness that hurt. But he didn't notice that either. Didn't notice when his breath stopped for a minute, only started again when he absolutely needed to breathe with a jerk that would have made his lungs ache if he'd been paying attention. How he both leaned against the door casually (subconsciously trying to play it cool) and took a step forward and perhaps even glared slightly for a split second before his face went back to absolute shock. He was too busy staring at Billy.

Billy was sitting comfortably on his bed, or at least appeared to be. He was staring at Dom with those green eyes that had not lost any of their heat or life, but there was something in them that Dom couldn't identify. His brain was struggling to process everything, was focusing on everything at once, telling him that Billy was there, wearing a black button-down shirt that only accentuated his eyes more and dark blue jeans that were perhaps a bit too tight (why in bloody hell are you looking there? You are over him, remember?). Billy was there, shoes off and set next to his bag that was lying on the floor. Bag. Dom focused on that, still in shock.

Billy's bag was on the floor. Billy obviously meant to stay here. Billy was here. Why was Billy here? As Dom slowly let everything sink in and raised his head, he realised that "why" was nowhere near enough to describe his shock, and "why in fucking hell" would be much more suited to how he was feeling. He straightened up and blinked a few times, struggled to get his jumbled brain back together.

He hadn't turned on the lights yet, and the only light that was there was the lamp on the bedside table that Billy had turned on, gleaming a pale yellow onto his skin, lighting part of his hair and face and turning the other into shadow. Dom closed the door, leaned against it. Let his fingers slide up the wall until he found the light switch, flicked it upwards, rubbed his finger against the plastic, seeking something steady.

Why was Billy here? And it finally occured to him that he could ask. It had to have been a good two or three minutes since he'd walked in and neither of them had said a word. Billy hadn't looked away, just sort of stared at him, just as much as Dom was staring back. And now Billy did drop his gaze away and instead focused on the bed, smoothing away a wrinkle, then crossed his ankles, uncrossed them, and looked back up, continued to stroke across Dom's covers, fingers traveling lines and ridges and valleys of the surface. Dom watched this for a moment, his brain making the strange connection of "Oh, lookit that. He's sort of exploring my sheets like they're an uncharted planet." followed by a moment's pause while his brain processed what it had just thought and replied back with, "Wait, what?!"

Okay. Time to find out what was going on.

Dom opened his mouth, managed to put together his thoughts together. Of course, that didn't mean his mouth and brain were exactly getting along right now. When he went to say was "Billy, what are you doing in my house, sitting on my bed?", what ended up coming out was instead more of a coughing "Erhm."

Billy focused on him again, eyes bright and sharp, and his fingers stopped their slow exploration of the material. Tilted his head slightly, furrowed his brows, didn't speak. His fingers lifted, slid together, dropped into his lap, and were still again. Dom focused on them again. For a moment, he felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, seeing himself as Billy must see him, mouth open slightly, staring, finger still touching that light switch, looking disoriented. He took in a long breath and closed his eyes. When he raised his head and opened his eyes, he licked his lips and rubbed his hands across his eyes. "Billy."

Billy didn't answer for a moment, just kept watching him, and Dom felt a sharp surge of annoyance rush him, and then Billy spoke. "Hello, Dom."

Snap. Everything abruptly jerked back into place for Dom, and time stopped moving so slow, his thoughts came back into his head properly, and the abstract feeling of doing astral projection left him. He let his fingers fall away from the wall and instead land at his side, slightly clenched. Felt another surge of anger because this was Billy sitting on his bed as if nothing was wrong with that and struggled against just shouting at Billy.

"Billy." He repeated. "Feel like explaining why you're in my house, in my room, on my bed?" He was rather pissy and yes, taking it out on Billy, and he had every right to be that way because he was pretty damn annoyed at Billy already anyways for what he'd said on the phone about Dom not being in love with Evey. "How did you even get in here?"

Billy frowned at him. "I still have that key you gave me a while back, remember?" He leaned over, dug in his bag, and came up with the small, shiny key that Dom had indeed given Billy the first time Billy had come to see him when Dom was in Hawaii. Dom didn't know if he really regretted this or not. On one hand, Billy was in his house, but on the other hand, Billy had been his best mate for years now and just because they were having an argument didn't necessarily change things.

Alright. His brain was definitely getting itself back together. Billy continued. "And as for why I'm in your house, in your room, and on your bed, well, I dunno. I felt like I should come here to be supportive and all, since you do mean so much to me and you're getting married. And I was rude to you so I should come here to apologise and be there for you when you get married." He offered Dom a smile but Dom didn't smile back. Billy scratched his wrist and looked away for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts, and Dom continued to stare at his eyes, just as green as he'd ever seen them.

"You came here to apologise? You could have just called." Dom responded, and Billy shrugged. "When did you get here?" Dom asked.

"Like I said, I figured I should be here to see you get married. You are my best mate and I do feel bad for what I said." Billy stood up and Dom wondered if he was going to ask for a hug. However, he didn't. Dom focused on the bag. "Got here, I dunno, maybe, thirty minutes ago? Just been waiting. Comfy bed."

"Oh. Uhm, are you going to a hotel?" Dom asked. Somehow, he knew what Billy's answer was going to be. The bed comment sort of slid into his brain, tumbled for a moment, slid right back out, and he wasn't sure how to respond to it.

Billy shrugged. "I will if you want me to go. I really did mean to come here and stay here and apologise and spend time with you because I haven't seen you in far too long." Billy replied. He made a move as if to grab his bag, paused, and then straightened again, almost uncomfortably, and for a moment Dom was glad because that meant that Billy was just as freaked out by this hopefully as Dom.

Dom, however, sagged and shook his head. "No. I mean, I wasn't expecting anyone to be here, but just stay here tonight or something, because I don't want to make you go find a hotel this late at night. I'll get the guest bedroom ready."

Billy waved at him, rolling his eyes. "It's not as if I've not a clue where everything is, Dom. I can do that myself." He offered a smaller smile. "I'm sorry for surprising you." This time, Dom returned the smile, even if he felt a bit awkward about it.

"Nah, it's okay, Billy." He returned, and then stood there for a moment more before feeling uncomfortable. "I'm, ah, going to go to the kitchen. I need to get something to drink. Throat's a little dry." He offered, and Billy nodded, grabbed the duffel bag for real this time, and slung it over his shoulder. "Well, like you said, you know where everything is. All the good silver's in the third drawer next to the sink, and all the rest of that fun stuff."

Billy didn't grin at this joke (Since when do we not laugh at jokes but only smile when we don't mean it? Dom thought, and disliked what had become of them, vowed to make it right again, and was suddenly grateful that Billy was here.) and instead only followed Dom, who was trying to think of something else to say, out of the room, leaving him to drop his bag in the spare room and leave Dom alone.

Dom grabbed a glass and debated getting alcohol. No. Bad idea in this situation. Instead, he would stay sober and go talk to Billy, fix what was going on. Getting a bottle of water, he paused a moment before shouting, "Do you want something to drink?"

"Sure, water would be fine. Thanks, Dom." Billy shouted back from the bedroom, and Dom took another glass out of the cabinet and poured the water in, watching it slosh around. God, but this was almost surreal. Billy showing up out of nowhere. A month ago, and Dom would have loved it. Now, he was feeling out of sorts and unhappy and wishing that things could just be back to normal.

"Anything to eat?" He added, figuring that he should probably eat something too. There was silence and he shouted the question a bit louder. "Billy? Food? Do you want anything?"

"If you're making something, that's fine. Airplane food is shite, anyways." Billy answered and Dom set about trying to find something to eat. He opened his fridge. Shit, he needed to go shopping. He'd been so busy lately that he'd completely forgotten to make sure he could continue sustaining himself and now was almost out of food.

"Well, I'll be going to run out and get some food then." Dom called. "I have pretty much milk and bread and crackers. So unless you feel like re-enacting The Shawshank Redemption and eating that, I'll be right back. Just gonna go get burgers for us or something."

"That's fine." Billy called back. "I'm not going anywhere in a hurry." Dom wondered if that was supposed to make him smile, and really wished yet again, for what had to be the third or fourth time in the last few minutes, that he could fix whatever had just gotten fucked up between them recently. He looked around for his wallet, realised that it was still in his back pocket, and shook his head. Keys were...

Keys were... Shit. Somewhere between here and the bedroom, he had dropped them. Not going to look for them. "Billy, I don't know where my keys are. Can I trust you not to lock the door on me?" He asked. Billy shouted back a yes and Dom opened the door, stepped into the night, felt a cool breeze, and inhaled.

Jesus fucking Christ on crutches, this was weird.

~~~

Billy sat down on the bed, fluffed his pillow up with one hand, and lay down, staring at the ceiling. Alright, so this was definitely turning out interesting. Yeh, listening to his internal voice telling him to get up and go somewhere? Not the best idea.

Because that had led to him driving, and that had led to him realising that he was on the same route that would take him to the airport, and his internal voice had said, "Hey, why not fly out to Hawaii?"

And miracles of miracles, there had been a direct flight, which had only furthered his brain saying this was a good idea. He'd hurriedly thrown a few things into the duffel bag and ended up on the flight over. Only very briefly wondering if he was doing something very stupid, he'd gotten a taxi to take him to Dom's place and unlocked the door, gone to Dom's room, and stayed there until he'd heard the door open.

He'd stiffened up, straightening, listening to Dom eventually walk to his room and the doorknob turn, and then Billy had stared at Dom as Dom entered the room. There was a momentary pause where he wasn't sure what was going to happen, where he'd watched Dom freeze, and then he'd seen the sudden, almost frightened, look that passed across Dom's face before disappearing to leave Dom staring at Billy.

And then had come the unbearable silence that Billy had sat through, managed to stay in control, his only giveaway being how he smoothed Dom's covers nervously. He didn't really want to talk first and right when he was about to, Dom had thankfully spoken up.

He'd attempted to explain what he was doing there, finding that the vibe that he and Dom had always seemed to share was suddenly gone and leaving him even more worried. But he managed to keep his cover until Dom left, playing as if he was alright. Because if it became apparent that both of them were not okay with the situation, it would only fall apart.

And now Dom was getting food and Billy was sitting on the bed, tired. He was ready to fall asleep but he knew that wouldn't be a good idea. Of course, he hadn't slept in a good 24 hours before he even made the decision to come here (and he was sure that had substantially played into the logic) so he was already absolutely dead to the world.

Of course, now that he was here, he'd seen how Dom had stared at his hands, stared at his eyes, and he was certain that Dom wasn't straight. Dom was most definitely running away from everything that had scared him before and Billy knew that if he talked to Dom, he would be able to show him that Dom was in fact bisexual and in love with Billy. Because Billy had waited quite a long time as Dom's friend even after they'd unofficially broken up and listened to him talk about his love life and supported him, and the entire time, Billy had wanted to tell him, "But why not me anymore? We were so good together before."

And he knew that Dom would be negative about it, push it away, and so Billy had stalled. He tended to do that, stalling until the last minute to actually fix something. And now he was here and he wasn't sure he could fix this. But he was going to give it a damn good try. He was in love with Dom, and he knew Dom was still in love with him.

Hell, he even had the best example to prove it. He could remember the first time he came to visit Dom here.

Billy sighed and tiredly pulled his luggage of the circling pick-up that he'd been staring at for the last thirty minutes. He'd been almost sure that they'd lost his luggage because everyone else had gotten their luggage except for a few people and he was stuck standing here. Pulling up the handle on the suitcase, he rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes and started to head towards where he hoped Dom would be.

Pushing through the crowds of people, he scanned the room, hoping to find Dom. There wasn't any sight of him and Billy groaned, leaned against a wall, and waited for the crowd to thin hopefully. He was tired from the flight and there had been a screaming baby on board that had driven him almost completely mental.

"Billy!"

Dom's voice. Where the hell was he then? Billy turned around, searching, couldn't find him. Heard Dom continuing, "'scuse me, sorry, gotta get to a friend. Sorry, sorry." and focused in front of him at the crowd, finally spotting Dom's face for a flash of a moment. As Dom broke through the crowd about twenty feet away, he hurried towards Billy. Billy dropped his bag, rushing towards Dom and meeting him as he launched himself into Billy's arms, just as Billy took a step forward to hug him eagerly. In a completely ungraceful crash of bodies, Billy ended up flat on his arse with Dom on top of him, grinning and laughing. Gravity and intertia did not work together very well, Billy decided.

Shoving at Dom gently, he managed to squirm his way free and sit up, looking at Dom. "Hello there." Billy said dryly, waiting a moment before letting his face melt into a matching smile. He glanced around to find a few people staring at them, but most ignoring the two men who had just done a spot-on impression of a car crash.

Dom shoved at Billy lightly. "Don't you say 'hello there', you twat. I know you're barely able to restrain yourself." He said. "How have you been, Boyd?"

Billy snorted at Dom. "Don't call me a twat, you bampot." He shot back and Dom burst into laughter. "I've been fine, although I'm wondering if we broke my coccyx bone." He got to his feet and brushed himself off. "And you?" He stretched down his hand, offering it to Dom.

Dom took his hand and squeezed it lightly as he stood, stretching out and letting out an impressive series of cracks issuing from his back, shirt riding up and revealing his stomach as he bent over backwards. Lifting himself back up, he stared at Billy. "Feel like going surfing while you're hear? Weather's gonna be great."

Billy laughed. "Well, I figured we might. Brought my trunks, anyways." He walked the few steps back to his luggage and picked it up off the floor, wheeling it back to Dom. "Now, get me back to your place, I'm tired and I have a headache. Want something for it."

Dom bowed. "Your chauffeur aims to please." He teased. Then he stepped forward, took the suitcase from Billy, and wrapped his free arm around Billy tightly. "Good to see you again, Pippin."

Billy hugged him back contentedly, huffing out a tired sigh. "You too, Dommeh. Didn't think I was ever going to get off the flight with that baby. Screamed for what felt like at least half the flight, plus, I didn't even get a window seat so I was stuck staring at the back of some bird the entire time. You are a sight for sore eyes."

Dom rubbed his back gently for a moment and then pulled back. "We'll get you back to my place and fixed right up with some paracetamol." Dom promised. "Now, let's get going. I've been waiting for the last hour for you. What took you so bleeding long?"

Billy shook his head. "Luggage. Stupid thing didn't bring it out till just now. Sorry to make you wait."

Dom looked at him for a moment. "You look good, Bills. It's really good to see you again. Been far too long." Billy smiled at him gently, shaking his head slightly, and Dom stared back, eyeing him, and the moment carried on far longer than it should have, but there was none of the uncomfortable 'What do we say now' that could have arisen. Billy shoved at Dom with his shoulder as he took a step forward.

"Car. Your place. Headache. Remember?" And then they were off again, taking the piss out of each other, and it was like they'd never been apart.

Those days together, few as they were, had been absolutely amazing and Dom had practically been glued to Billy's side the entire time, never leaving him alone, crawling into his lap, giving him affectionate hugs and even one wet kiss on the cheek out of nowhere, and Billy had wondered exactly what Dom was doing if he was supposedly not in love with Billy because this was far too much for Dom to do for just being friendly.

Billy knew Dom friendly, and then he knew Dom in love, and that had veered towards Dom in love. Yawning, he rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. He heard the door open again and called quietly, "Dom?"

"Yeah?" Dom's voice answered. Billy got up off the bed, stretching and rising up on his toes, pushing his socks into the carpet before padding towards the kitchen.

"Just making sure it was you and not some intruder or something." Billy said as he entered the room. A plain brown bag was sitting on the counter and wafting from it was the scent of delicious cheeseburger. It didn't smell like a greasy joint kind of food, it smelled like quality and he glanced at Dom. "Thanks." He said. Dom nodded and pointed to the still full glass of water on the counter next to it. "Oh shit, sorry. That was for me, I'm guessing. I was lying down. Really tired."

"Yeah, don't worry about it." Still forced, and Billy struggled against pushing Dom to the door and kissing him hard, wrapping his arms around Dom, and forcing him to just make it back to the way it used to be. He had a feeling that before the week was out, he'd have Dom again. Because each time he came to see Dom, Dom acted like he was practically in love with him. Example number two that Billy could think of just as fast as the first was a more recent trip, less than a year ago.

Billy stretched out on the couch and heard Dom enter, holding two bowls of ice cream. "Thanks." He said, taking it. "Chocolate. Well, it's certainly good to know you've learned your lesson."

Dom shoved at him and crawled half on Billy, over him, to sprawl across the back of the couch, lying on his stomach. It was wide and soft, and looked pretty comfortable, actually, but Dom was tilted dangerously to one side and Billy shifted over slightly, just in case Dom ended up falling, so that he wouldn't get knocked off and lose his ice cream.

Dom ignored this and took a bite of his ice cream and gave a yelp. "Christ, that's cold. It's practically frozen. My teeth are in pain."

"Are you actually remembering to, I don't know, brush them?" Billy asked, and grinned. Dom spooned a small amount of ice cream onto his spoon, took aim, and flipped it onto Billy's face, and it landed on his forehead, melted, dripped down his nose, and paused before sliding into his filtrum. Dom snickered and slid down, settling onto Billy's lap, holding Billy's arms down just as Billy went to wipe it away. "Let me up! It's cold."

Dom leaned in and licked Billy's forehead as Billy squirmed. "Jesus, Dom!" But inwardly, his stomach was rolling in pleasure. Because Dom had a wicked tongue and he remembered where else that tongue had been and how exactly he'd tortured Billy with that tongue. And Dom's tongue was quick, making a fast swipe down Billy's nose, off the tip of it, and pausing. Billy stared at him, eyebrows raised.

"I've still got some in that little spot you like so much." Billy reminded him. Dom nodded and raised his fingers to wipe at it, licking the smear off his finger. But he didn't move off Billy and Billy didn't try to make him. Instead, he wiggled down so that he could place his bowl right by Billy's chin and stretch out over Billy, stomach above Billy's groin (Billy willed his cock to be good), one leg sliding between Billy's and the other off the couch.

"Comfortable?" Dom asked.

"Are you?" Billy snorted back, flicking Dom's forehead with his middle finger, and Dom rubbed it before digging his chin into Billy's ribs. "Ow, you fucker!" Billy swatted Dom and wiggled away, and Dom elbowed his stomach, pinched at Billy, and Billy grabbed both bowls of ice cream, set them on the edge of the couch arm, and rolled off the couch, yanking Dom with him.

Landing on top of Dom, Billy pinned him quickly and shoved his wrists up, holding them together, squeezing lightly. "Give up?" He asked. Dom struggled and Billy forced his weight downward, using his free hand to tickle Dom's ribs and stomach. Dom's shirt was already up to his midchest, revealing almost enough to make Billy's mouth water if he looked down, and he could feel Dom's loose jeans having slid enough to reveal his hip bones. Billy knew he should let Dom adjust this, but he wasn't about to let go of Dom's hands and end up losing this wrestling match to Dom (or giving up being able to know that so much of Dom was revealed again).

That would have worked, had Dom not bucked his hips upwards, thrown Billy offbalance, jerked his arms free, and rolled them smoothly to press his weight down against Billy and hold his wrists in midair as Billy struggled to get them back (and struggled to get free lest Dom feel the now-growing erection that was pushing at his own trousers). Billy stared at Dom and gave up, flopping backwards.

Dom stayed where he was, however, watching Billy curiously, and Billy was sure that Dom could feel his cock pushing against his arse, wondered why Dom didn't move. But Billy locked his gaze on Dom's, and he would have said something if not for the look in Dom's eyes. His lips were curved into a slight smile and his eyes dancing with delight but warm at the same time. And it was so reminiscent of the times before when they were an item when they would do this that Billy wondered if Dom was thinking of it too.

And he gradually became aware of the fact that Dom's eyes were slightly glazed over, his breathing slightly heavier, and they were still staring, Dom moving in closer. Billy knew then that Dom was thinking about their times together, and as much as Dom wanted to think that he was straight, it wasn't going to happen if they kissed right then. Should have let them go. Should have let them kiss, and he didn't.

Instead, he raised his fingers to brush Dom's cheek gently, and Dom leaned against them, closing his eyes. Stretched out over Billy, and Billy could feel that Dom was hard too, wanted so badly to reach between them and undo Dom's jeans, slide his fingers inside, touch him. Started to, let his fingers crawl slowly, brushing skin, so slow that it almost drove him crazy, and Dom didn't move, laying his head against Billy's chest. His fingers curled around the fabric of Billy's shoulder and he slid up, lining his cock up with Billy's, seeming to grind downwards for a moment, but Billy couldn't be sure.

Billy slid his fingers underneath Dom's shirt, played with the skin. Stomach, belly button, fingers swirling and stroking, eventually wandering dangerously close to one of Dom's nipples, knowing it was hard and sensitive and a single, light pluck of it would earn him a quiet moan. Didn't want to risk it. Didn't want to risk either Dom freaking out or them having sex and Dom waking up in the morning and never speaking to Billy again. So why in the hell was Billy doing this, and risking putting them in that exact situation?

It was too soon to try anything else with Dom. He had to work Dom up more, make him beg Billy, make him need Billy, make him know that he needed Billy. So Billy let his fingers work downwards again, laying his hand flat against Dom's stomach, sliding, dragging, to his hip and thigh, resting his palm there, and Dom sighed, pressed against Billy, eyes still closed. "Bills." He breathed.

And Billy could feel how hard Dom was, let his finger draw little lines across the upper part of Dom's inner thigh, felt Dom shifting and his breathing get even faster, and then, just when he was about to ask Dom if he needed Billy, Dom froze, jerked away. And Billy stared at him. There was a moment of absolute silence and Billy refused to say anything. Dom seemed to be in just as much shock as Billy was and carefully reached across him to get his ice cream. His jeans were still hanging dangerously low and Billy watched him hitch them up with one hand as he leaned back again.

Billy kept his eyes trained on the floor as he reached for his ice cream. After a moment, he coughed, took a bite, and nodded. "It's good. Thanks." Dom shifted uncomfortably and set the cold bowl (but there was no way that would be enough to get rid of his erection, especially when he was this worked up. Billy knew that far too well) on his groin casually.

"Yeah, you're welcome. It is pretty good." And that was that.

They didn't say one word about it for the rest of the time that Billy was at Dom's. They still hadn't.

"What are you thinking about?" Dom asked. Billy blinked, raised his head. He'd not really eaten much of his burger and he took a huge bite, almost too much, and chewed it too fast, swallowed, winced, coughed. Dom moved as if to rise and pound on his back if necessary, but Billy waved him off and wiped at the tears that swarmed his eyes. "You okay?"

Billy nodded and coughed again. "Sorry. You startled me. No, I was just thinking about... I dunno, nothing. I zoned out." He lied smoothly, and Dom eyed him curiously for a moment. Billy took a sip of water to aid the food that had just previously choked him. He was about to speak again when the door twisted open and he glanced over

~~~

Dom heard the doorknob twist but it didn't really register in his brain. He was too busy watching Billy's eyes, because Billy couldn't lie to him through those eyes. They told the truth, and they had been wistful and heated a minute ago, as if he was remembering when they were a couple. And then Billy kicked him under the table and he jerked slightly. Realised that the door had opened.

He turned and blinked at Evey. Oh shit. He'd forgotten completely that she was coming over. She was smiling at him, but her brows were slightly furrowed in confusion. "Hey, Evey." He said, rising and walking over to her. She hugged him and placed a light kiss to his cheek, and he sensed a bit of displeasure from her. "Uhm, Billy flew in. He ended up being able to come to our wedding after all."

"Ah." Her eyes focused on Billy. "Well, it's good to see you. I'm glad you managed to come in."

Dom nodded. "Yeah, he's staying here tonight, since he doesn't have a hotel. Or rather, since I didn't think he should go to a hotel tonight, just because it was pretty late and it would be easier for him to stay here."

Evey nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. Do you want me to go?" Dom shook his head.

"No worries, love. He'll be in the spare bedroom. You can stay the night." Dom reassured her. He decided that it was not the best time to be asking her to stay with him, because Billy was there, and abruptly he wondered what Billy thought of this whole situation. He glanced back across the table to the man and saw that he was taking another sip of water, looking quite collected. Dom looked at this eyes, saw Billy watching Evey, and wondered what he was thinking. He didn't look upset at all and that startled Dom.

In fact, he was feeling pretty damn startled anyways. Billy had shown up and Dom hadn't been able to stop thinking about the man, and it was just too much. Too much Billy. So when he went to ask Evey if he could speak to her alone, what ended up coming out of his mouth (as he frantically tried to steal it back and shove it back down his throat) was "Do you want to move in with me?"

Dom had a sneaking suspicion that all three people in the room wore identical expressions. He could compare Billy's and Evey's, and found that they were pretty damn similar, although there was more disbelief in Billy's face and more confusion on Evey's, and he supposed his own was perhaps shock and fright. But all three had to have been pretty much stunned, and he had to remind himself that he wasn't supposed to look like this if he was the one doing the asking.

"Are you serious?" She asked quietly. Dom nodded, perhaps slightly too fast, but he didn't think she noticed. What had made him ask that? He didn't want to ask it in front of Billy. This was a personal thing, and now it was in front of them and... shit.

Billy stretched out and yawned. "Look, I'm gonna go to bed, and let you two talk. I'm pretty tired. So, have a good night, you two. See you in the morning." Billy rose, put his glass in the dishwasher, threw out his trash, and headed for the spare bedroom.

~~~

Three hours later, Billy was still wide awake. Why is he asking her to stay with him, especially if they're getting married next week? I would imagine she would have been staying with him long before that. His thoughts were going over and over that. And he just couldn't believe that Dom was really in love with her, especially not when he'd seen how Dom looked after asking her.

He looked like a deer caught in headlights, as if he was trying to stay afloat in an ocean by grabbing onto the nearest thing, whether it sank or stayed on top. And Billy had been pretty sure that Dom had not meant to ask her that at all. Flopping over in bed, Billy rubbed his fingers across his eyes.

Yeah. He would ask Dom about it in the morning. Because he was sure Dom wasn't in love with Evey now. Maybe if Billy approached him on it face to face, he could knock some sense into Dom. Or Dom would just realise it himself.

Fri, 03 Mar 2006 03:37:19 GMT

Title: Responses
Author: Sonata Night
Rating: R
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: Jack makes a move, Daniel responds.
Notes: First Stargate fic ever, drabbly. First of five. Possible awful writing.
Disclaimer: Fish are friends, not food - Erhm, I mean, all of this is purely from my imagination.
Archive: If you think it's good enough, drop me a line at jiradamister@writing.com and archive away!

He was barely inside the house before Jack shoved him roughly against the wall. "Shit." Daniel swore, staring. "What are you doing?"

Didn't earn a response, at least not verbal. Instead, Jack slid his hand down Daniel's stomach, between his thighs, forced them apart, pressed against him. "Tell me that this isn't exactly what you want, Daniel."

Daniel stared at him, eyes shocked and darkening quickly as Jack cupped, squeezed, earned a quiet moan. "Yes, god yes." Daniel whispered. Couldn't speak anymore as Jack latched onto his throat, sucking at the skin hard, and was dragged into the bedroom. About time.