gayalondiel_bak (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gayalondiel_bak) wrote2010-01-08 10:38 pm
gayalondiel_bak) wrote2010-01-08 10:38 pm
Fic: Never enough
Series: Stargate: Sg-1
Title: Never Enough
Season/Episode: 4/The Light
Rating: G
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Genre: Angst, First time
Word count: 902
Summary: After finding Daniel on his balcony, Jack has something to work out.
Author's notes: This is short, but it's the first time I've written something even vaguely slashy. Please be gentle. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sally_maria for the beta.
Disclaimer: All Stargate characters and situations are the property of MGM. No ownership is implied or inferred. This is done for love only.
Jack swallowed hard, his nerves jangling and his body rebelling at the course his mind had set. Funny, he had always thought it would be the other way around. Nervously, he approached the chamber where Daniel sat reading.
“Daniel?”
Daniel looked up, and caught Jack's eye with a flash of blue magnified by his glasses. Jack stopped at the door, fighting with himself, and praying it didn't show on his face.
It had started when he found Daniel on the balcony. No... it had started long, long before that. It could have been when he left Daniel on Apophis' ship, when they had re-opened the stargate and Daniel was lost and vulnerable and alone, when he had thought Daniel was dead or when he was hurt on this mission or that aftermath... Jack couldn't name when it had started, but he knew it for what it was when he saw his best friend hanging off the wrong side of the barrier.
Everything had made sense in that brief instant. The strange closeness he and Daniel shared, how he who had never been a tactile man was suddenly ruffling his teammate's hair, fiddling with his glasses, generally getting into his personal space and irritating him and teasing him, it made sense of how his life had suddenly acquired meaning again. Daniel... it was all Daniel. And he knew then that if Daniel took that fatal swan dive then he might as well follow him, because what was the point of living without him?
“Daniel,” he said again, and Daniel closed his book and looked at him more keenly, startled by the tone of his voice.
“What is it?” he asked, all seriousness.
Jack glanced back and scanned the room behind him, to check if Carter or Loran were there to overhear. Nothing... no excuse not to say except for the clamouring of his own cowardice.
“Daniel,” he said again, lost for words.
Daniel took the lead, closing his book, walking to Jack, taking him by the shoulder and guiding him over to where he had been sitting. Together they sat on the floor, Jack feeling foolish and fumbling for an excuse, Daniel staring at him with that piercing gaze that denied him any chance of denial.
“I know why I've been a jerk,” Jack said suddenly. His voice echoed in the chamber and Daniel raised his eyebrows.
“A jerk? Jack, you haven't been...”
“Please,” said Jack, cutting across him. “I know I've been a jerk. You know I've been a jerk. Just let me admit it, huh?”
Daniel hesitated, and behind his eyes Jack saw a thousand snubs and abrupt words fly past. “No,” he said loyally. “I mean... you had your reasons.”
“I did?”
Daniel paused again, and his eyes flickered around the room as if he expected someone else to materialise. No-one did, but he lowered his voice nonetheless. “I thought you did,” he said conspiratorially. “I mean, you and.. and Sam...”
There is was. The flicker in Daniel's eyes as he spoke her name said it all, and suddenly Jack's heart leapt. Could it be? He had come in here expecting to be rejected, knocked back, maybe even hit, but he had only the faintest hope and tarnished memories that Daniel might feel the same way that he did.
“No,” he said gently. “Not her... not Carter...”
Daniel's eyes dipped and something like grief washed his face just for a second. “Who, then?” he asked, the tiniest twinge of hurt colouring his voice. He hid it well.
“Daniel,” Jack said again. Daniel looked up, and Jack caught his eye, held it, tried to pour all his emotion and love and desire into one look. Daniel held his gaze, his expression first resigned, then disbelieving, then hopeful, yet never changing from that same shade of crystal blue. Finally he smiled, but Jack put his hand up, halting his emotions in their tracks.
“You know, I can't do anything about it,” he said. “Even if I … I couldn't. Not without giving everything up.”
Daniel nodded, looking away. “I understand,” he said. “Your career... we can't be together.” Jack marvelled at his friend's courage, that he could speak the words so easily when Jack himself had tiptoed around them for so long.
“No, Daniel. We can't be together. It can't be what you want.” Jack reached out and took Daniel softly by the hand. He pulled him, resisting slightly, to stand in front of him. Keeping that grip on Daniel, that lifeline to insanity, he reached up with his other hand and brushed Daniel's cheek. Leaning forward, he kissed him, softly, gently, as though his kiss were the light touch of dew on a rose petal, no more than the lightest touch lest he fall and be doomed.
“We can't be together... out there,” he said. “In the real world. For here, for now... let it be enough.”
Daniel kissed him back, and Jack relaxed into the embrace, deepening it, no longer caring if Carter should wander by and see them. Let this be enough, he had said. Stubbornly he crushed the voice in the back of his head that refused to be silenced, the voice that told him that it would be worse now than if he had never spoken a word. It would never be enough.
Title: Never Enough
Season/Episode: 4/The Light
Rating: G
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Genre: Angst, First time
Word count: 902
Summary: After finding Daniel on his balcony, Jack has something to work out.
Author's notes: This is short, but it's the first time I've written something even vaguely slashy. Please be gentle. Thanks to
sally_maria for the beta.Disclaimer: All Stargate characters and situations are the property of MGM. No ownership is implied or inferred. This is done for love only.
Jack swallowed hard, his nerves jangling and his body rebelling at the course his mind had set. Funny, he had always thought it would be the other way around. Nervously, he approached the chamber where Daniel sat reading.
“Daniel?”
Daniel looked up, and caught Jack's eye with a flash of blue magnified by his glasses. Jack stopped at the door, fighting with himself, and praying it didn't show on his face.
It had started when he found Daniel on the balcony. No... it had started long, long before that. It could have been when he left Daniel on Apophis' ship, when they had re-opened the stargate and Daniel was lost and vulnerable and alone, when he had thought Daniel was dead or when he was hurt on this mission or that aftermath... Jack couldn't name when it had started, but he knew it for what it was when he saw his best friend hanging off the wrong side of the barrier.
Everything had made sense in that brief instant. The strange closeness he and Daniel shared, how he who had never been a tactile man was suddenly ruffling his teammate's hair, fiddling with his glasses, generally getting into his personal space and irritating him and teasing him, it made sense of how his life had suddenly acquired meaning again. Daniel... it was all Daniel. And he knew then that if Daniel took that fatal swan dive then he might as well follow him, because what was the point of living without him?
“Daniel,” he said again, and Daniel closed his book and looked at him more keenly, startled by the tone of his voice.
“What is it?” he asked, all seriousness.
Jack glanced back and scanned the room behind him, to check if Carter or Loran were there to overhear. Nothing... no excuse not to say except for the clamouring of his own cowardice.
“Daniel,” he said again, lost for words.
Daniel took the lead, closing his book, walking to Jack, taking him by the shoulder and guiding him over to where he had been sitting. Together they sat on the floor, Jack feeling foolish and fumbling for an excuse, Daniel staring at him with that piercing gaze that denied him any chance of denial.
“I know why I've been a jerk,” Jack said suddenly. His voice echoed in the chamber and Daniel raised his eyebrows.
“A jerk? Jack, you haven't been...”
“Please,” said Jack, cutting across him. “I know I've been a jerk. You know I've been a jerk. Just let me admit it, huh?”
Daniel hesitated, and behind his eyes Jack saw a thousand snubs and abrupt words fly past. “No,” he said loyally. “I mean... you had your reasons.”
“I did?”
Daniel paused again, and his eyes flickered around the room as if he expected someone else to materialise. No-one did, but he lowered his voice nonetheless. “I thought you did,” he said conspiratorially. “I mean, you and.. and Sam...”
There is was. The flicker in Daniel's eyes as he spoke her name said it all, and suddenly Jack's heart leapt. Could it be? He had come in here expecting to be rejected, knocked back, maybe even hit, but he had only the faintest hope and tarnished memories that Daniel might feel the same way that he did.
“No,” he said gently. “Not her... not Carter...”
Daniel's eyes dipped and something like grief washed his face just for a second. “Who, then?” he asked, the tiniest twinge of hurt colouring his voice. He hid it well.
“Daniel,” Jack said again. Daniel looked up, and Jack caught his eye, held it, tried to pour all his emotion and love and desire into one look. Daniel held his gaze, his expression first resigned, then disbelieving, then hopeful, yet never changing from that same shade of crystal blue. Finally he smiled, but Jack put his hand up, halting his emotions in their tracks.
“You know, I can't do anything about it,” he said. “Even if I … I couldn't. Not without giving everything up.”
Daniel nodded, looking away. “I understand,” he said. “Your career... we can't be together.” Jack marvelled at his friend's courage, that he could speak the words so easily when Jack himself had tiptoed around them for so long.
“No, Daniel. We can't be together. It can't be what you want.” Jack reached out and took Daniel softly by the hand. He pulled him, resisting slightly, to stand in front of him. Keeping that grip on Daniel, that lifeline to insanity, he reached up with his other hand and brushed Daniel's cheek. Leaning forward, he kissed him, softly, gently, as though his kiss were the light touch of dew on a rose petal, no more than the lightest touch lest he fall and be doomed.
“We can't be together... out there,” he said. “In the real world. For here, for now... let it be enough.”
Daniel kissed him back, and Jack relaxed into the embrace, deepening it, no longer caring if Carter should wander by and see them. Let this be enough, he had said. Stubbornly he crushed the voice in the back of his head that refused to be silenced, the voice that told him that it would be worse now than if he had never spoken a word. It would never be enough.