And Nothing Else Matters

When he kisses Daniel for the first time in daylight, Daniel's dazzled eyes screwed shut, he tells himself he has to be careful, but Daniel's mouth is warm and his hands slide through Jack's hair, thumbs finding places on Jack's skull that make him shiver, and Jack forgets to care about anything but Daniel.

When he kisses Daniel in uniform for the first time, dress blues stiff and uncomfortable, hours of diplomacy have dulled his senses so he can't think beyond mild incredulity that Daniel gets off on having his tie wound around his wrists as Jack goes to his knees, never letting go of taut, twisted silk, exchanging Daniel's touch for the desperate sounds he's making, and Jack comes first and hard, his mouth frantic on Daniel.

When he kisses Daniel for the first time on a mission, he should worry they'll be seen, he should care, but all that matters is that the sizzle of a blast was six inches wide of its target and Daniel's alive, safe, and the blood on his lip is because Jack's kissed him hard, all teeth and fury and trembling, grateful relief.

When he kisses Daniel it's always for the first time.


Return to Home

Click here if you'd like to send feedback