No, Thank You, John - Part 3 by Widget

"Daniel," he said his voice low and gentle, "Daniel, wake up."

Paul hated having to wake the sleeping man. He had refused to drift off after their lovemaking, preferring to stay awake and watch the other man sleep. Daniel looked so different in slumber, so open and vulnerable, and so achingly beautiful that his heart lurched in his chest. So he had lain here studying Daniel's face in the dim light filtering through the curtains, while his hands traced delicate patterns along the warm skin of the other man's back. He could have stayed here for the rest of the night so easily, would have given anything to be able to watch as Daniel awoke, to see his face bathed in the soft golden light of morning. But as appealing as that idea might be, it simply wasn't practical. It was in fact, quite dangerous.

He sighed, and gave the sleeping man a gentle nudge. "Daniel!"

Responding to the whispered summons, Daniel finally opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the relative gloom and then he smiled, a sweet, contented smile that tempted Paul to consider throwing all thoughts of caution to the wind.

"Hi," Daniel said, his smile growing wider and a bit more playful.

"Hi yourself," he responded his own face taking on an expression he was sure could be described as doting. Then he frowned, as he remembered his reasons-his very good and very unplayful reasons-for waking Daniel in the first place. "I have to go."

Daniel frowned slightly. "Are you sure?"

Paul sighed again. "I'm afraid so. Its already past 0400 and I need to get home and changed." He gave Daniel a wry and slightly regretful grin. "It wouldn't do for me to show up at the Pentagon in a wrinkled uniform."

Now it was Daniel's turn to sigh. "I know."

"Besides," Paul continued, "I don't think Colonel O'Neill would be terribly happy if he saw me coming out of your hotel room first thing in the morning."

Daniel's expression darkened.

As soon as the words were out of his, Paul wanted to kick himself for his gross lack of tact. He had sworn to himself that he would never mention O'Neill's name in Daniel's presence. He knew how much O'Neill's callous repudiation had hurt Daniel. The pain was still so close to surface, a raw wound that could be opened with the barest of touches or a single ill chosen word.

Paul was also keenly aware that his own motives and feelings in this matter were far from straightforward. On some level, he knew he was indebted to O'Neill. After all, were it not for the colonel's rejection, Daniel probably wouldn't be here with him now. O'Neill had literally handed Paul the thing he most coveted and which he despaired of never having, though he doubted the colonel would appreciate his gratitude. At the same time he pitied O'Neill for having neither the sense to appreciate what he had nor the balls to keep it. He also couldn't help but hate the man who had hurt Daniel so deeply. He couldn't change the past, couldn't erase the pain already inflicted, so he had promised himself he wouldn't repeat O'Neill's mistakes. He would never do anything to hurt Daniel and that included broaching the topic of Jack O'Neill. If Daniel wanted to talk about the Colonel, if he wanted to vent and rail, Paul would be there for him, encouraging and supportive and loving, all the things that O'Neill had ceased to be. And he refused to listen to the insidious voice in his head that told him his understanding had absolutely nothing to do with sensitivity towards Daniel's broken heart and everything to do with a terror caused by the memory of Jack O'Neill.

Paul knew that despite everything that had transpired, despite all the vicious, hateful words, all the scorn and heartache, Daniel still loved Jack O'Neill, and would always love him on some level. Daniel Jackson was not a man who gave his heart lightly; he guarded his feelings carefully, wrapping them in an armor of independence and professional reserve. Very few people had been allowed within the citadel of his heart and Jack O'Neill was one of the lucky ones. It was for that reason that his rejection had cut so deeply, and had become a betrayal of the highest order. Daniel had trusted, had loved O'Neill more than any other, and O'Neill had torn out his heart and left it lying on the pavement. But still, in spite of it all, Daniel simply couldn't walk away. Jack O'Neill had been his friend, his brother, his comrade-in-arms even before he'd ever been his lover. Even if they could never again be lovers, Daniel, he knew, would still try to salvage the friendship, not only for his own sake but for that of his teammates as well. Paul couldn't help but admire his loyalty and generosity of spirit, qualities that made Daniel such an extraordinary person and such an invaluable asset to the SGC. But he couldn't completely ignore that niggling fear that he would ultimately lose Daniel to O'Neill. O'Neill's presence hung like a specter between them and he honestly didn't know how to banish it, or if it was even possible.

He looked down at the other man, willing him to see the sincerity written on his face. "I'm sorry Daniel. That was thoughtless of me."

Daniel's eyes softened as he gazed up at him. "No, its OK. You're right. Jack wouldn't be happy about this. He doesn't know about us and even if he did, I see no reason to rub it in."

'Like he did to you when he started fooling around with Carter,' Paul thought, but kept the opinion to himself.

He rubbed his thumb along Daniel's cheekbone, a small gesture of comfort. "I'll come back at 0800. We can have breakfast together and have plenty of time to get to the Pentagon by 1000."

Daniel smiled at him, a soft half smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Alright."

Paul knew he should really get going but there was one more thing he wanted to discuss before he left. "Daniel, instead of flying back to Colorado this evening, why don't you spend the weekend here in DC."

The other man looked surprised by the request and bit his lip as he considered it. He began to shake his head in negation. "Paul, I don't..."

Paul didn't give Daniel a chance to voice his objections. Raising a finger in a very Daniel like gesture he launched his offensive. "Daniel just hear me out. There is absolutely no reason why you have to return to Colorado ASAP. You yourself told me that you're not expected on base until Tuesday for a team briefing with Hammond at 1100 hours, right?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"And you're going to be in meetings pretty much all day today, which means you won't have any time to even see anything in the city..."

"That's true, but..."

"And you haven't actually visited DC in...how many years did you say?"

Daniel was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling, trying to recall how long it had been. "1992. I gave a paper at a conference hosted by the Smithsonian in '92."

"Well, that's eight years. That's a long time and there's a lot to see. Lots of museums, culture, all kinds of wonderful things."

Daniel sighed, clearly beginning to waver but trying to remain firm. "I know, but Paul..."

Paul gave him a warm smile and spoke in his silkiest, most seductive voice. "All kinds of wonderful things. There's an exhibition on Japanese folding screens of the Edo period at the Sackler, and a Motherwell exhibition at the Hirshhorn. And of course the Jasper Johns and the Dutch landscape shows at the National Gallery..."

He looked at Daniel who was definitely tottering on the brink. "And let's not forget the exhibition of Native American textiles at the Museum of American History. Oh and the Washington Symphony Orchestra is in town. They're doing an all French program on Saturday night: Berlioz, Debussy, Saint-Saens. I know how much you like Debussy...'La Mer'..." he taunted in a soft silken voice.

He was watching Daniel carefully now, knowing that he could still go either way. Daniel gave him what was clearly intended to be a baleful glare but the warmth in his eyes undermined its effectiveness.

"Have you been moonlighting at the Office of Tourism?" Daniel asked a bit tartly.

"No, just did a little homework to see what kind of enticements I could offer a brilliant archeologist to tempt him into staying a little longer." 'With me,' he added silently.

Paul breathed in relief when he saw the acquiescence in Daniel's expression. "Well, I'd say that's one hell of a list of enticements. And you didn't even include the best one." Daniel offered, his voice now husky.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he leaned closer to the now smiling man. "And what would that be?"

"Mount Vernon!" Daniel answered triumphantly.

Paul couldn't help it. He laughed, his chuckle filling the room and sparking an answering wave of mirth from his companion.

"You do know I was teasing about the other reason for staying, don't you?" Daniel asked once he got his laughter under control.

"Yes, I know," he answered, leaning over once more to trail his knuckles down Daniel's cheek. "So it's settled? You'll stay the weekend and fly back to Colorado Springs on Monday?" He was surprised at how casual his voice sounded in his own ears, reflecting none of the nervousness he was feeling.

Daniel smiled at him, a sweet, winsome smile that made all the blood in his brain want to rush southward. "Yes. I'll stay."

Paul smiled back, no longer able to hide his relief. "Perfect. I'll have someone at my office take care of all the arrangements." He ran his thumb across Daniel's lips before kissing him slowly and oh so softly. They held the kiss for several heartbeats, before Paul grudgingly pulled away. "I hate to leave."

"I know," Daniel said and Paul knew it was true.

"I'll be back in a few hours for breakfast."

"I'll be here."

Paul gave him one last quick kiss before pulling himself off the bed, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his jacket. He paused for a moment to drink in the sight of Daniel sprawled across the bed, the pale, rumpled sheet bunched around his waist, his gaze burning into his own even through the darkness of the room. Then he slipped into the hallway, closing the door, and the previous night, behind him.

***

Jack smoothed the front of his uniform one last time, before raising his hand and rapping sharply on the door. He had had a lot of time to think the night before. Nothing but time. After the encounter he'd overheard the previous night, he'd lain awake, tossing and turning, trying desperately to erase the echo of voices and aching, unwanted memories, but to no avail. For hours his treacherous mind had assaulted him with images of Daniel, not just the erotic reminiscences of their one brief night together, but other less intimate but no less cherished memories drawn from four years of friendship. Finally as dawn began to break, Jack had come to a realization: he needed Daniel. Obvious really, something he'd known all along but had never openly acknowledged in so many words. He needed Daniel, needed him in his life, even if he could never again have him in his bed, no matter how much he might wish it. He had been a total shit to Daniel for months now, pushing him away, scorning him, hurting him. It was no way to treat a friend and Daniel was, or at least always had been, his friend.

So he'd made some decisions. He would do everything in his power to restore the friendship that he had ravaged so completely in recent months. He would treat Daniel with the respect and dignity he deserved, and hopefully win back the trust that his thoughtless actions had destroyed. Daniel had an extraordinary capacity for forgiveness, something that he had taken advantage of all too often in the past. He could only hope that this time the damage was not irreparable. And if he could regain Daniel's friendship then maybe, just maybe, he could win back his love as well.

He knocked again, wondering if maybe Daniel had overslept, or even slept at all. 'Stop it!' he commanded himself sternly. 'It's none of your business. When you dumped him, you lost all rights to judge him or his actions.' Still, knowing this and being able to think and act accordingly was not exactly easy. The knowledge that he had all but gift wrapped Daniel and handed him to Davis on a silver platter ate through his gut like acid. His fault, his screw up. It was his fucking denial had led to this.

He heard footsteps padding softly across the carpet towards the door and a muffled voice calling 'Coming!' before the door swung open. Daniel stood in the open doorway mostly dressed, his gray dress shirt open at the throat and his tie hanging loose beneath his collar. He had obviously just showered, since his hair was damp and standing up in little spikes on the top of his head.

"Oh! Hi Jack!" Daniel seemed surprised and maybe a tad disappointed to see him standing there. Jack ruthlessly pushed down a wave of resentment at the realization that Daniel had expected someone else. Instead, he plastered on his warmest smile offering Daniel his cheeriest good morning.

"Morning Daniel! Sleep well?" Inwardly he cringed. 'Dammit! Stop it! You are not going to bring that up!'

Fortunately, Daniel didn't catch the implications of Jack's normally casual comment. "Sure. How 'bout you?"

"Like a baby," he answered, the lie tasting sour in his mouth. "Wanted to see if you wanted to grab some breakfast before we have to head off to the Pentagon."

"Oh. Well, I promised to have breakfast with Major Davis this morning. He had some questions about my proposal for expanding the SGC's anthropology department and the best way to go about recruiting some new specialists."

Jack couldn't decide if he was annoyed or relieved by Daniel's response. Ever since Daniel had opened the door, he'd found his eyes surreptitiously scanning the room, looking for signs that Davis was there. 'No, of course not. He's clever, too clever to get caught in bed with another man, especially Daniel.'

Seeing Jack's expression harden ever so slightly, Daniel spoke quickly. "You're free to join us if you like."

"Sure, why not?" he responded in his laziest drawl.

"He said he'd drop by at eight. Why don't you come in and sit down, while I finish dressing?"

"Sure," he repeated as Daniel went back into the bathroom. Jack moved around the room slowly before plopping down in the chair farthest from the adjoining bedroom as possible. 'The scene of the crime,' his mind whispered.

Long minutes passed, an awkward silence settling across the room until Jack could no longer stand it. "So, how was your dinner last night?" 'You're making conversation, that's all, nothing inappropriate here, just simple curiosity.'

"Ah, good," Daniel's voice floated in from the bathroom.

"So, ah, how was that French place?"

Jack felt like he was walking in mine field; every comment, every casual observation was somehow fraught with meaning. No matter what he said or did, everything seemed to lead his mind back to a clandestine romantic encounter that Jack should never have known about, let alone spied upon.

Daniel came back into the living area, his tie knotted, his hair now neatly combed. "Well, we didn't go there in the end. Went to the Tabard Inn instead. They have a lovely terrace out back and it was such a pleasant night, Paul thought it would be nice to eat outside."

"Paul?" Jack asked, his voice sharper than he intended.

Daniel's eyes narrowed and his lips tightened into a frown at Jack's obvious disapproval.

'Shit! Shit! You are a fucking moron O'Neill. Why can't you ever keep your fucking mouth shut!'

Daniel's voice was cool as he answered, "Well it is his name. We've known each other for two years, I see no reason why we can't be on a first name basis."

'Way to go O'Neill. You were supposed to be rebuilding your friendship here, not pushing him away again.' "No, of course not. You're a civilian, after all, no reason for you to stand on military protocol unless you feel like it."

"Exactly. After all, I've been calling you Jack for years. Unless you'd prefer 'Colonel O'Neill'?"

Jack looked at the other man. Daniel's expression was closed off, neutral. He hated when Daniel got like this. He could usually read Daniel like a book but there were times like this when his expression became shuttered and Daniel was as distant and as unknowable as the Sphinx. There was something in his tone, a hint, an inflection of something, but it could have been anything from censure to wry amusement. Jack decided to play it casual.

"Nah, got enough people callin' me 'Colonel' and 'sir.' I've always kinda liked the fact that you called me 'Jack.' There aren't that many people in my life that do."

Daniel's eyes narrowed slightly. He was clearly unsure of whether or not to take the remark at face value, wondering if Jack was making some kind of joke at his expense.

Jack sighed inwardly. 'God, how did it come to this? Can't say a damn thing without screwing it up or making Daniel think I'm jerking him around. When had it gotten so complicated?' He took a deep breath and continued. "Truth is, I don't have a whole lot of friends, at least not ones I can share stuff with. I can't afford to lose the ones I have."

Jack looked at Daniel, watching as the other man studied him, assessing, weighing his words, sifting through them looking for the truth.

"No," Daniel answered slowly, "I guess not."

The response was non-committal but at least it wasn't a brush off. Jack breathed a little easier, until Daniel's next words stole his breath completely.

"I've decided to stay and spend the weekend here in DC."

Jack felt as if he'd been gut punched. Daniel continued, apparently oblivious to the other man's distress. "I haven't been to DC in ages and, well, Colorado Springs is nice and all, but lets face it, its not exactly a cultural hotbed. And there's so much going on here; there's at least a dozen exhibitions up right now and none of them will ever make it to Denver, not that I'd have the time to see them even if they did. And since we don't need to be back on base until Tuesday morning, it would just be a shame not take advantage of an opportunity like this."

Daniel's voice was like a buzzing in his ears. Jack hadn't caught the specific words, only the general meaning. 'Daniel wants to stay in DC. Daniel wants to stay in DC with him, with Davis.' He wanted to object, but no words came to mind; he wanted to refuse, but he understood that this wasn't a request, Daniel wasn't asking for his permission. Daniel was a grown man, he had every right to make his own decisions, whether Jack approved or not. He didn't want Daniel to stay, but he knew that any attempt to stop him would simply widen the rift between them. He felt the bile rising up in his throat and he responded the only way possible.

"Sure. No reason not to."

Daniel looked at him, faintly surprised, as if he had fully expected Jack to protest. He seemed relieved by Jack's acquiescence and his gut clenched tighter at the realization that Daniel had expected a fight. Well and why the hell not? Of late, everything had become a battle of wills between them, with Jack treating Daniel like a willful child any time he opened his mouth. Daniel had every reason to expect Jack to raise a stink if for no other reason than to thwart Daniel. Jack drew in another deep breath. 'Christ, what a mess.'

Jack was spared further comment by a knock on the door. Casting a look of gratitude Jack's way, Daniel crossed the room and opened the door to admit Major Davis. He glanced down at his watch. 0800 sharp. 'Punctual as always. Bastard.' Jack couldn't help but derive at least a modicum of pleasure when he saw Davis' face fall ever so slightly at the sight of him. Ever the politician, he covered it up quickly before Daniel ever saw it, but in that brief moment, the masks had fallen away understanding passed between the two men. They might both be officers in the USAF, but they were also rivals, adversaries squaring off on the field of battle. The words were never spoken, never would be spoken, but they hung in the air between them. 'I hate you.' Thankfully Daniel remained oblivious to the simmering hostility between the two men.

Davis offered a bright smile though Jack knew it wasn't for his benefit. "Dr. Jackson, Colonel O'Neill."

"Good morning Paul," Daniel said, beaming at the other man.

"Major," Jack replied, ignoring the way his gut twisted at Daniel's obvious delight at the other man's presence.

"Jack'll be joining us for breakfast. Hope you don't mind." It was a statement, but Jack could here the underlying inquiry.

Davis was all warm smiles and warmer demeanor. "No, not at all. It's always a pleasure. Did you sleep well, sir?" the last was aimed at him.

"Peachy. How 'bout you?" He couldn't help himself.

"Very well, sir. Thank you."

"Well, we'd better mosey on downstairs and get Daniel started on his caffeine drip. A caffeine deprived Daniel is not a pretty sight"

"Jack," Daniel grouched, drawing the name out in fond exasperation. It had been a long time since he'd said his name like that and Jack took it as a positive sign.

"Well, I certainly don't want to stand between an archeologist and his coffee," Davis replied. "Shall we?" he asked, sweeping his arm towards the still open door. Daniel breezed past and Jack followed, offering the major a grin edged with a dagger's point. Davis' smiled faltered for a heartbeat.

'Yes, I see we understand each other perfectly,' Jack thought as he followed Daniel towards the elevator. The battle was now fully joined.

***

The day had been interminable, the minutes dragging on with painful slowness. Jack began to wonder if he had slipped into a different time zone, that unlike the rest of DC which operated on Eastern Standard Time, the Pentagon was operating on Torturous Standard Time. The day had started out crappy with his awkward conversation with Daniel and other man's announcement of his intention to stay in DC coming on top of a sleepless night. Then breakfast with Daniel and 'Paul' who had shared fond glances and sly smiles over coffee and fluffy fucking croissants as if he, Jack O'Neill, wasn't even present. And then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he got to spend the rest of the day closeted with a bunch of pencil pushers and desk jockeys as he tried to explain for the hundredth time why the Goa'uld were bad guys. Christ, what had he done to deserve this?

Of course, he knew the answer, at least to part of it. 'You screwed your best friend then you screwed him over. And now he's moved on. And its all your fault.' He sighed again, trying, but once more failing, to focus on the matter being discussed. The problem was, he couldn't. His mind kept going back to the darkened hotel room and the sounds of passion emanating from the other side of the wall. And when he wasn't hearing those sounds he was seeing Daniel's face as he patiently explained to Jack his reasons for the decision to stay in DC, without ever mentioning reason number one, that he wanted to stay and spend the weekend with his lover. But Daniel wouldn't say that, would he? Unlike Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson was thoughtful and considerate, taking into account other people's feelings. He would never hurt Jack, never flay him with harsh words or scorn him publicly or just turn and walk away. No, that was Jack's department. And lookee, what a great team we make. We even have a neat division of labor when it comes to wrecking our friendship. I twist the knife, he bleeds. Except that wasn't entirely true because right now Jack could feel the blood oozing slowly from the open wound; he could smell the sweet, metallic scent. It may have taken longer, but he was the one doing all the bleeding now. Fuck.

He flicked a glance done at his watch. 1506. Another hour until the meetings were over. He was hoping he would get a chance to see Daniel before he had to go and catch his flight out of National. He hadn't seen him or Davis--small mercy there-since breakfast. Apparently Daniel's meetings today were running on a different schedule than his so there had been no sign of him at lunch.

God, but he hated the distance that stood between them. He had hoped that this trip to DC, just the two of them, might give them a chance to set things right, but instead all it had done was push Daniel into another man's arms. And now Daniel was going to be here, alone with Davis for two, no three, whole days and there was nothing he could do about it. Hell, he'd seen the way Davis had been eyeing Danny up over breakfast. Museums, his ass. They'd probably spend the entire time in the bedroom. The only art they'd be looking at would be artistically arranged wet spots.

Jack closed his eyes, trying to get control of himself and his emotions. This wasn't helping. This trip was a washout, he'd accepted that. The coming weekend, well, it was Daniel's decision and anything he might say or do to the contrary would just make matters worse. Right now the best he could do was focus on the future, on Tuesday when they were both back at the SGC in Colorado Springs, a healthy two time zones away from the annoyingly smooth Major Davis. Once he had Daniel back home where he belonged, he'd make it all up to him. Daniel would find out what it really meant to loved and wanted. And that was a promise Jack fully intended to keep.

With the decision forged in his mind, Jack turned his attention to the endless droning of the Pentagon policy wonks.

***

Daniel worked his towards the reception desk, barely dodging a woman wheeling an oversized suitcase behind her and carrying several brightly colored shopping bags with the words "Saks Jandel" emblazoned on them.

It was now almost half past five. After a flurry of meetings with Pentagon types explaining the importance of the "meaning of life stuff" and then badgering, wheedling and cajoling anyone he could to get more resources to help pursue that goal, Daniel was exhausted and wired all at once. All in all, he considered it time well spent. He seemed to have actually made some headway with some of the Washington bean counters and sycophants, but Daniel had had enough experience with grant boards in his student days to know that a positive meeting didn't always yield the tangible results you were hoping for.

When the last meeting had finished, Paul had driven him back to the hotel so he could freshen up and change before dinner. Daniel flashed a quick glance over his shoulder to see the other man seated in an overstuffed chair at the far side of the lobby awaiting his return. 'Probably best not to tempt fate,' Paul had explained. 'If I get you anywhere in the proximity of your bed, I won't be held responsible for my actions.'

Daniel had laughed, deeply flattered at Paul's appraisal of his allure, knowing it went both ways. 'Well, we have three days to test the waters, see how deep this really goes.' Daniel refused to let himself think of anything beyond those three days. Time enough for that later.

Upon reaching the reception desk, he asked if there were any messages for him. It was force of habit; he wasn't really expecting anything since the only people who knew he was in DC were General Hammond and some assorted personnel at the SGC. Should any of them need to get hold of him, they would simply have contacted the Pentagon directly. So it came as a surprise when the fresh faced young woman behind the desk gave him an envelope, smiling pleasantly as she wished him a good evening.

Daniel frowned slightly, turning it over in his hands before thanking her and moving over to the nearby bank of elevators. It wasn't until he was ensconced in the elevator car that Daniel took a good look at the object in his hands. The envelope was cream colored and delicately textured with the hotel's emblem elegantly inscribed in red in the upper left hand corner. Daniel slid his thumb beneath the flap, cracking the adhesive and pulling out the sheet of paper within. He unfolded it, his eyes scanning the brief, hand scrawled message:

Hey Danny,

Have a good weekend. See you on Tuesday.

Jack

That was all. A salutation, a brief message, and a signature. Less that a dozen words. Well, what else was necessary? It wasn't as if Jack was exactly effusive at the best of times and Daniel would hardly categorize their recent relationship as the best of times. Not by a long shot.

The elevator door opened and Daniel exited, walking to his hotel room with his mind still preoccupied with current events. Things had been tense between he and Jack the entire three days they had been here together in Washington. No surprise there, Jack had barely spoken a civil word to him in months. He had avoided Daniel for the most part and on the occasions when that wasn't possible, he had simply tolerated his presence. Well, in between the sniping, and the criticism and the general ill-tempered behavior. In truth it wasn't all that much of a hardship for Daniel to return the favor and give Jack a wide berth. Daniel might be a lot of things, but a masochist wasn't one of them. He had neither the desire nor the intention to play Jack's whipping boy. If Jack wanted to be an asshole, well nothing said Daniel had to simply stand there and take it. If and when Jack was ready to start behaving like a mature, rational adult, Daniel would be ready to talk to him, but until Jack got his act together, Daniel would simply stay away.

He sighed. Tensions were already pretty high on the team and the stresses and strains caused by the rift between he and Jack were becoming increasing apparent and Daniel hated that most of all. His team, his family was being torn apart by this. If he and Jack couldn't find a way to resolve this conflict and soon, then SG-1 was finished. Not for the first time Daniel wondered if he shouldn't just ask to be reassigned, but he knew that wasn't much of a solution. General Hammond would demand his reasons for leaving the flagship team, reasons Daniel couldn't give without causing further harm and conflict, nor would it be fair to Sam and Teal'c. And, if he was being honest, it wasn't fair to him, either. He had done nothing wrong, dammit. He loved Jack, he always had, but he had never spoken of it, never done anything that might make Jack uncomfortable. It was Jack who had crossed that boundary, Jack who had taken action and said the words and Daniel had responded, openly and honestly. He had no reason to feel guilty or be ashamed but that was cold comfort when his world was being ripped apart in the aftermath.

Daniel swiped the keycard through the lock and stepped into his hotel room. His khaki trousers and white button down shirt had been pressed and cleaned per his request and were now hanging in the closet. He had already loosened and removed his tie on his way to the room and now he quickly shucked out of his suit, hanging the jacket, trousers and shirt in the closet should he need to wear them again in a pinch. Dressed only in a tee shirt and boxers, he moved to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and brush his teeth, wishing he had time enough for a quick shower but knowing he didn't.

He looked at his reflection, running his hand along his jaw, feeling the faint prickle of stubble and decided he had time enough for a quick shave. As he drew his razor across and down his cheek, his thoughts turned once more to the events of that morning. When Jack had shown up on his doorstep, he had been surprisingly...warm, so much like his old self, the way he had been before their disastrous one night stand. No snide remarks, no coolness, nothing that even hinted at the tension that had marked all their interactions of late. Daniel had found himself being drawn to Jack, even as he felt a sudden wariness. Why was Jack being so friendly all of a sudden? Why this unexpected change of heart?

Daniel had tried to accept it as a conciliatory gesture but he couldn't stop looking for some hidden meaning, some trick and for the first time he was forced to confront the fact that Jack wasn't the only one who had been changed by the fallout from that night. There was a time not that long ago when he had trusted Jack implicitly, but now that trust had been shattered and he was only beginning to understand just what a long way they had to go just to rebuild their former friendship. He wanted to, he truly did, but he knew it was going to be damn hard.

That exchange had been nothing compared to the breakfast that followed. Jack had been a mass of thinly veiled hostility, nothing new in and of itself except this time he wasn't the target of Jack's ire. Polite and well behaved on the surface, he had spent the entire meal shooting daggers at Paul when he thought Daniel wasn't looking, while the other man was forced to retain a calm demeanor in the face of Jack's antagonism. He didn't know why Jack was behaving this way; certainly he couldn't know that he and Paul were lovers. This was a new development and they hade been discrete in all of their dealings thus far. Did Jack simply dislike the friendship that had developed between the two men? Was he going to antagonize everyone who became close to Daniel, resenting anyone who dared to usurp his former place as Daniel's friend? God, Daniel hoped not. That would render an already awkward situation completely unbearable.

He sighed again, an old habit that had become increasingly pronounced in recent months. He couldn't decide what annoyed him more, Jack treating Paul so shabbily, his attempts to hide his bad behavior in order to protect Daniel's sensitivities or his belief that Daniel of all people wouldn't catch on to what he was doing. It was all of the above, of course, but that last truly rankled. Daniel wasn't a child, he didn't need to be protected and he certainly wasn't anywhere near as naïve as Jack consistently believed him to be. Clearly Jack didn't know Daniel nearly as well as he thought he did.

Shaking his head slightly to clear it from these frustrating thoughts, Daniel finished dressing. It was pointless to dwell upon such things when there wasn't anything that he could do to resolve the matter while he and Jack were on opposite ends of the country. When he returned to Colorado Springs, there would be time enough to talk with Jack and try to find a way to put an end to this frustrating situation. Until then he would not allow the unpleasantness with Jack to cast a pall over his weekend with Paul. He'd made a decision to stay with Paul and he was going to make the most of it.

Flicking off the light, he closed the door, determined to leave his doubts and worries about Jack behind him.

***

Daniel walked around Paul's well-appointed townhouse, letting light fingers trace across the smooth surface of a shelf of one of the bookcases. Paul's home was very much a reflection of the man himself, tasteful and understated. Dark leather sofas contrasted with sleek blond wood, cream colored walls framing modern abstract paintings, a geometric sculpture of burnished copper occupying a corner. The place was impeccable, save for the subtle signs of occupation: the pile of mail on the table near the door, a magazine and an abandoned coffee mug on the coffee table, a few unwashed dishes in the sink.

The drive from the hotel to Georgetown had been a bit subdued. Paul had seemed to notice Daniel's mild distraction and didn't push for conversation. Instead he filled the space with idle chatter, pointing out local landmarks, complaining about the perpetual lack of parking which was a problem to residents and visitors to the District alike, regaling him tales of 'flying manhole covers' apparently caused by pressure in underground gas mains that had been the bane of 'M' Street recently. That had drawn a laugh out of Daniel who couldn't help but be amused and horrified in equal measure by the strange threat of attack by flying manhole covers of all things.

They had finally arrived at Paul's home off 'M' Street, one of a row of stylish townhouses along 31st Street. While Paul changed from his uniform to more casual clothes, Daniel was free to, well, snoop. He didn't like thinking in those terms, but that was what he was up to nonetheless. Intelligence gathering.

He moved across the room to where Paul's stereo was located and began to peruse his CD collection. Jack had told him you could learn a lot about somebody by his choice of music and of course the way they arranged it. Paul's CDs were neatly slotted in a standing rack of that same pale wood, perhaps beech, and he found himself looking at the titles. Lots of classical music, everything from Brahms and Beethoven to Tchaikovsky. He found quite a few of Debussy and Fauré; like Daniel Paul had a fondness for French composers of the nineteenth century. There were some more contemporary things: some jazz, Winton Marsalis, Miles Davis; a few soft rock things, James Taylor and others. All in all it was a fairly...conservative collection, certainly compared to Daniel's which was, well eclectic, was perhaps the most gracious term one could use.

He remembered distinctly a time early in their acquaintance when Jack had visited his apartment and had put his ideas regarding intelligence gathering via CD collections into practice...

// "Daniel? What the hell is this?"

Daniel had come out of the kitchen carrying two mugs of coffee. After putting them down, he walked over to Jack so he could see what the other man was waving so vigorously in his hand.

"Oh, that's 'The Downward Spiral.' Nine Inch Nails."

"Nine Inch Nails?" Jack repeated, his voice measured.

"Yeah. Great stuff. Very intense. Trent Reznor is brilliant, an absolute genius." Daniel had explained with considerable enthusiasm.

Jack had snorted, leaving no doubt as to his opinion of Daniel's assessment. "Sorry, Daniel but yer way off base on that one."

"Oh?" Daniel had asked blandly.

"'Fraid so. Puccini, that's a genius. Elvis? You bet. Springsteen? Absolutely. But this Trent Razor..."

"Reznor." Daniel corrected.

"...guy. Nope, don't think so," Jack continued unperturbed by Daniel's interruption.

"Have you even listened to any of his stuff?"

"Don't need to. Christ Daniel. Did you build your collection from discount bin castoffs? I mean look at this stuff. The Offspring? Soundgarden? Sonic Youth? I never heard of any of these losers."

"That's my recent music section. You haven't even looked at my classical or world music selection."

"Its still crap," Jack had explained placidly.

Daniel had rolled his eyes and cocked an eyebrow before pointedly remarking "Well, I'm not sure I should take any musical advice from a man with an ABBA CD in his collection."

"Hey! I told ya already that was one of Sarah's!"

"And yet you've kept it all this time. Surely returning it to its rightful owner would be the decent thing to do?"

Jack glared at him. Daniel smiled sweetly right back at him.

"Shut up Daniel. And where's my coffee anyway?"

Daniel had just smiled a bit more broadly, knowing he had scored a victory off the taciturn colonel. On future visits to Jack's house he noticed that the ABBA CD had vanished from his collection without a trace //

Daniel slid the CD he had been looking at back into place, once again moving about the room, taking a measure of the man from his personal belongings. Daniel had just been admiring a lovely hand blown glass bowl when he suddenly felt Paul come up behind him, his step soft but slow so as not to startle the other man. Paul slipped his arms around Daniel's waist, pulling his body close. He dropped a soft nuzzling kiss on Daniel's nape before nipping gently on his earlobe.

"Hey," Paul whispered in his ear, his voice slightly husky. "Howya doin'?"

Daniel leaned back into the embrace, enjoying the warmth and solidity of the other man's body. "Fine," he responded. Shifting direction, he remarked "This is beautiful," drawing gentle fingers over the lip of the glass bowl.

"Thanks. I bought that in a small glassmaker's shop in Murano, oh nine, ten years ago."

"Really?" Daniel turned in his embrace to face the other man. "I was in Venice ten years ago, just for a couple of days. I was working on my doctorate in archeology then and I stopped on my way to Herculaneum and Pompeii."

"Well who knows? Maybe we passed each other in Saint Mark's Square?" Paul suggested, smiling.

"Perhaps," Daniel confirmed. "Stranger things have happened."

"So..." Paul asked, drawing out the syllable, "I thought for dinner we could go to Citronelle. I did promise you French last night, after all, and I wouldn't want to be seen as a man who breaks his word. They have incredible food and it's just a couple of blocks from here so we can walk. Unless of course, you'd prefer something else, maybe Thai? Busara is really good and they serve a great larb gai. Or maybe..."

"Paul," Daniel said interrupting him. "French sounds fine. I trust your judgment."

Paul smiled. "Good. We have a reservation for eight. Georgetown on Friday night, a reservation is pretty much a prerequisite," he explained.

Daniel nodded in understanding.

"So, we've got a little time to kill. How about a drink?"

"Sounds great. Just...no beer. I've never managed to get Jack to grasp the basic fact that I really don't like the taste of most beers, especially the domestic ones." Daniel clarified.

"Wine?"

"Perfect."

Daniel followed Paul into the small kitchen. It was every bit as elegant as the rest of the house, all marble surfaces and shiny chrome. He watched as Paul rummaged around for a corkscrew then withdrew a bottle of wine from a lower cabinet.

"It' a 1996 Catena Cabernet Sauvignon Alta. Its Argentinean," he said as he began to uncork the wine. "I think you'll like it."

Daniel nodded again.

"Could you grab a couple of glasses? Upper left hand cabinet."

Daniel did as requested, pulling out two wine goblets that he placed next to the now open bottle of wine.

Paul poured the wine then handed Daniel a glass before clinking both glasses together in toast. Daniel took an experimental sip.

"Its very good." Daniel acknowledged.

"Thanks. It's a favorite of mine. I usually buy it by the case at Calvert Woodley and then store it in the basement. No real wine cellar, but it keeps well down there.

Daniel took another sip and nodded a third time. He had no idea what a Calvert Woodley was but he presumed it was a liquor store. If they provided wines like this, well they won Daniel's wholehearted support.

"Would you like to sit down?" Paul asked gesturing towards the living room.

"Thanks," Daniel replied before moving out of the kitchen and seating himself on the sofa. Paul took a seat next to him, close but not too close.

"So..."

They both started simultaneously. They looked at each other and laughed. "Look," Paul offered reasonably, "there's no reason for us to feel nervous. I mean we've known each other, albeit somewhat long distance, for two years. Now we've got a whole weekend to get to know one another better. The real pressure is already off; we've already made love and it was incredible," he said smiling warmly at Daniel who smiled back. "So, lets just relax and enjoy the time we have together."

Daniel couldn't agree with him more. He put his wine glass down on the coffee table before reaching for Paul's and repeating the action. Now free of all encumbrances he leaned forward, cupping his hand around the other man's cheek. Paul took his hand, lifting it slightly to plant a kiss in his palm as Daniel leaned in to kiss him.

The kiss was slow and sensuous, a touching of lips, parting, touching again. Daniel ran his tongue along Paul's lower lip, caressing the softness without trying to part the lips themselves. Daniel cradled Paul's face in both hands as he kissed him, feeling the other man's arms snaking around his body, pulling them closer. He nipped on Paul's lower lip holding it between his teeth before finally slipping his tongue into the other man's mouth.

The kiss deepened as the two men traded off control, their tongues tangling in a delicious, ecstatic dance. Daniel felt Paul leaning in closer, his weight taking them downward. Daniel didn't resist as his body was pressed into the cushions. He felt Paul's fingers slipping into his hair even as his own arms wrapped around the other man's back and his hands began to stroke along the sinuous curve of spine. His legs slipped apart as Paul settled his weight full on top of his pliant body and he began to rock upwards in a slow, steady rhythm. He swallowed Paul's moan and moments later Paul returned the favor. It was incredible, simply incredible.

And then Paul broke off the kiss with a sudden forceful movement and a muttered curse. Daniel looked at him somewhat perplexed at the move.

"Sorry Daniel," he apologized. "Its just that I had lots of fairly romantic plans for this weekend and they didn't include doing you on the sofa in under a half hour of entering my house. Though I guess I should have know better. You are way too distracting for my own good. Though my libido thoroughly approves."

Daniel looked up at Paul's flushed and embarrassed face and couldn't help but smile. Paul wanted to woo him, show him around, maybe show him off. Daniel wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary, but he realized how important it was for the other man. Paul was obviously something of a romantic and if a bit of courtship made him more comfortable, well Daniel was willing to play along. Provided there would be sex later, of course. There were limits to his altruism here. He looked a question at Paul and Paul smiled in return.

"Why don't we go have a nice dinner, a few drinks, maybe a little walk after dinner then come back here and finish this particular...interchange."

"Sounds like a plan," Daniel replied sitting up and straightening his clothes. Paul stood and offered his hand and Daniel took it, levering his body off the sofa. Daniel would let himself be wooed. For now.

***

Dinner had been every bit as wonderful as Daniel had expected it to be. The restaurant was elegant, but also comfortable and laid back, offering a view into the kitchen where the white hatted chefs prepared their culinary delights. The food had been delicious, a wonderful blend of traditional French cuisine with California style and the accompanying wine had been superb. The earlier awkwardness in Paul's living room had dissipated and they now fell easily into conversation, discussing possible plans for the rest of the weekend and comparing reminiscences from their own world travels. Not surprisingly, Daniel had been to more places than Paul, but Daniel was delighted to discover how well traveled the other man was.

"A side effect of being an Air Force brat," Paul explained. "We moved a round a fair amount when I was a kid and Dad had postings in Germany and Italy as well as the U.S. I rather liked going to 'exotic places,' or what seemed to be exotic places when I was young. Obviously my definition of 'exotic' has changed considerably in recent years."

Paul didn't need to explain that last remark any further.

"I still like to travel. I've been to Europe a half dozen times, I've even been to Japan once."

"That's one place I've never been," Daniel remarked, taking a sip of Cabernet. "I've been all over Europe, the Middle East, South America, but I've never traveled in Asia."

"You'd like it, I think. Tokyo is a bit intense, kinda the uber city, all skyscrapers and garish neon lights. Very crowded and noisy. It actually makes New York seem sedate by comparison. But Kyoto...now that's a beautiful city. Very elegant. There are temples and shrines everywhere. And Kiyomizu Temple? Absolutely breathtaking. Its up on a hillside and on a clear day you can see all of Kyoto spread out beneath you. And when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom it's just amazing."

"Sounds wonderful," Daniel agreed. "I'd love to see it sometime."

"Well, perhaps someday I could show it to you." Paul offered.

Daniel took a sip of wine to cover his sudden surprise. Paul's casual offer could have been nothing more than an offhand remark, yet given the context of this weekend, it suddenly seemed fraught with meaning and possibilities. Was Paul intimating that they should consider going away somewhere together? Surely not. It was too soon. Or was it?

Daniel took another sip of wine and forced himself to relax. He was being silly, reading deeper meanings into everything he heard. First with Jack this morning, now with Paul. It was a casual comment, spoken in a moment of enthusiasm, nothing more. Daniel had seen the way Paul's eyes had lit up as he described the sights he'd seen in Kyoto. Daniel knew that look, understood that passion because it was one he himself experienced often. Paul was just sharing his enthusiasm, nothing more. It was nice to find that he and Paul had shared interests, that there was more between them than hormones. Sex alone, no matter how incredible, was no basis for a real relationship. Daniel wasn't sure he was looking for a long-term relationship or if he was even ready for one, but he was heartened by the knowledge that he and Paul had more in common than physical attraction. The more he got to know Paul, the better he liked him and regardless of where this was headed, that was certainly a good thing.

If Paul had noticed his momentary anxiety, he didn't comment upon it, for which Daniel was grateful. Paul was nothing if not tactful and considerate and Daniel found himself relaxing further in the face of such solicitude and the gentle buzz from exquisite wine.

The waiter came and cleared away their dinner plates and took their dessert order. As they sat over crème brulée and expresso, Paul suggested an after dinner walk along 'M' Street.

"As an anthropologist, I thought you might enjoy getting a lay of the land, and seeing the indigenous population interacting in their natural habitat," he explained, his tone slightly mocking but warm. "Georgetown on a Friday night offers an unparalleled opportunity to watch the mating rituals of the North American frat boy in all its embarrassing glory."

Paul smiled, that warm smile that felt like a caress and Daniel felt a delicious shiver travel up his spine. Daniel was sorely tempted to tell Paul to hell with amateur anthropology and demand they return to Paul's house ASAP and get down to a far more interesting and intimate study of mating rituals. But much to his surprise, he found to that he liked the seduction the other man was creating. He was enjoying the flirting and the teasing and he knew the walk itself would simply be another stage of foreplay, completely innocent yet serving to heighten the tension. He could feel the anticipation rising within him and he knew that when they did get back to Paul's place, the consummation would be all the sweeter for it.

Daniel had laughed, which he was fairly sure had been the point of Paul's little foray into anthropology speak. "Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse and still consider myself a serious anthropologist?"

"Shall we?" Paul queried, his smile broadening

"Absolutely," Daniel responded, smiling in return.

Ever the gracious gentleman, Paul brushed off Daniel's offers to split the rather sizeable dinner bill. "It's my treat, Daniel. I invited you, you're my guest." Paul had accentuated that last word, leaving no doubt that what he had meant was 'my date.' "Next time I'm in your neck of the woods, you can return the favor," he offered by way of compromise.

Daniel nodded his grudging acceptance as he moved to the door. Not surprisingly, Paul arrived first and held the door open for him. Under other circumstances, Daniel might have found this courtliness a little high handed but he understood it was all part of Paul's wooing, so he simply nodded graciously as he slipped out the door.

After the relative quiet of the restaurant, the cacophony on 'M' was a bit dizzying at first. Paul hadn't been exaggerating. The streets were full of people, moving in groups and pairs while the traffic crawled along at a snail's pace as drivers desperately sought the ever elusive parking space. The crowd was relatively young, lots of college kids as Paul has predicted, but he and Paul weren't completely out of place. It was a beautiful night, the mugginess from the late afternoon tempered by a slight breeze, making the temperature more bearable. The sky was clear and bright.

As they walked past "Clyde's" one of the bustling restaurants along the main drag, Paul pointed out the site of one the 'flying manhole covers,' eliciting another chuckle from Daniel. They walked along the street engaged in conversation, weaving their way through the mass of people. Paul mourned the loss of the two art house movie theatres that used to reside in the area until they were replaced by a drugstore and an upscale yuppie hardware store. Daniel made sympathetic noises, acknowledging that Colorado Springs wasn't exactly a haven for foreign films either.

As they moved along the crowded sidewalks, Daniel found himself pushed up against Paul quite often. He could feel his thigh slide against Paul's thigh, and feel their bare forearms brush together. More than once he felt Paul's hand gently touch the small of his back, directing him, guiding him through the crush of bodies. It was all perfectly harmless, perfectly proper and utterly arousing. Somehow these casual touches as they walked amid the oblivious crowds were every bit as intimate as the brush of lips and tongue they had shared in the privacy of Paul's house. At this very moment, Daniel wanted Paul desperately.

He turned his head to look at his companion, his gaze smoldering, not so much asking as demanding. Paul nodded in understanding and placing his hand once again on the small of Daniel's back, he directed them back towards 31st Street and the haven of Paul's house.

No words were spoken on the brief walk back towards Paul's house and none were needed. Both men were most certainly on the same page here and Daniel could practically feel the heat coming off his companion's body, superheating the cool night air.

Paul unlocked the door and ushered Daniel inside. "Would you like something to drink?" Paul asked graciously though his voice was slightly rough with desire.

"No." Daniel growled. He'd had enough with courtesy and solicitude for one night, dammit. If Paul wanted to engage in further courtship rituals, well he'd have to wait until tomorrow because Daniel could not, would not wait any longer. With a suddenness that took both men by surprise, Daniel pushed Paul against the door, kissing him with a fury. The kiss was raw and violent, a clashing of teeth and a flurry of tongues. Paul moaned into his mouth, tilting his head to allow Daniel to explore his mouth at will, his arms reaching up to wrap around the other man's shoulders. Daniel pressed the full length of his body against Paul's grinding their hips together, his hands running along the length of the other man's torso and hips before slipping behind and cupping his ass with a steely grip.

Daniel was dizzy with need. He wanted this man, all of him, and he wanted him now. He broke off the kiss with a gasping, sobbing breath as lack of oxygen threatened. Latching his mouth on to the side of Paul's neck, he kissed and nibbled his way from ear to collarbone.

"Daniel," Paul moaned as his neck arched into the moist warmth assaulting his skin. "Daniel."

Daniel was on fire, full of craving and unquenched need. A part of his mind, the tiny corner that remained rational and detached wondered how it was that he had not yet burst into flame and been reduced to ash. He feasted on pliant flesh and growled deep in his throat. He felt hands on the side of his head, lifting his face and he found himself gazing into eyes, once green, now black with desire.

"Daniel," Paul said, his voice husky, the sound of it rasping achingly along sensitive flesh. It was a question, eloquent in its simplicity. 'What do you want?'

Already gone beyond the point of coherency, Daniel could only offer a single word. "Want."

Paul nodded, his face flushed and intense with desire. "Then take," he offered, commanded before kissing Daniel again.

The two men stumbled across the room, clinging to each other as much in need as for support. They began to tug at one another's clothes, working with more determination than coordination as the urgent need to feel bare flesh overrode all other concerns. Fumbling, hasty fingers pulled at buttons while imprecations against all clothing fasteners were muttered. Their bodies had twisted and turned in their erratic course across Paul's living room, looking for the world like a parody of a waltz, with less grace and more skin. Daniel was backing Paul towards the place he believed a leather sofa resided. For once, the fates cooperated as he pushed Paul back and the other man's shins bumped against the front of the couch before their combined weight and momentum tumbled them down unto the cushions in a sprawl of limbs.

Paul shifted his body so he was lying along the length of the sofa and Daniel moved to cover him. He kissed Paul fiercely than slid down his body, reaching for his belt buckle, tugging and pulling until it opened and his hands could move on to the button and zipper which put up only slightly less resistance. He yanked hard on the waistband of the other man's trousers, pulling pants and boxers down to his knees in one solid pull before turning his attention to his own trousers and the erection trapped within. He cursed as his hands tore uselessly at his own belt and then he felt another pair of hands, only slightly more steady, undoing the buckle, pulling the leather tongue free. He felt Paul trail one finger along the aching length of his cock, before his entire hand came to rest, covering and squeezing him, eliciting a sobbing gasp before returning to the business of removing Daniel's trousers. Once the button and zipper were undone, both pairs of hands pushed the fabric down, exposing his overheated skin to the cooler air of the air-conditioned room.

Daniel lay down again, his body flowing, melting across Paul's willing and pliant one. He felt the man beneath him shift and move spreading his legs to let Daniel settle between his parted thighs. It was an echo of their earlier encounter on the sofa, their positions now reversed. But this time, neither man was going to put a stop to it. Daniel leaned in for another dizzying, oxygen depriving kiss, feeling Paul's arms wrap around him tightly before his hands slid down to clamp upon Daniel's bare ass with nearly bruising force. Daniel's own hands slid upward, his fingers sinking into the soft, thick hair on the back of his head, using the grip to guide the kiss as he began to move his body in a dance as old as time.

He knew this wouldn't last. They were already wound up before they returned to Paul's house, hell, even before that first amazing kiss before dinner. Their sweat slicked bodies moved together with no real rhythm, pressing together in response to frantic, inchoate desire, their cocks clashing, kissing, gliding together and apart, again and again. Paul leaned up taking his mouth again in a fierce, hungry kiss, his tongue plunging into his mouth, ravaging Daniel's even as Daniel ravaged his mouth in return.

The heated tension was rising in his body as if every cell was contracting in on itself, tightening with delicious, painful pressure. His body pushed down and along the body beneath his, sweat easing the glide of flesh against flesh as moans were traded like kisses. He was nearing the edge and Paul was right there with him. Paul's body was bucking upwards, pushing into his, writhing with ecstatic delight. Paul released his mouth to kiss along his neck, biting and sucking at his pulse point before moving down to nip along his collarbone.

The wonderful tension was building, racing through his blood and then suddenly the body beneath his stiffened and Paul cried out his name, before biting down hard at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The sharp pain of teeth digging into flesh and bone fired along his nerves, triggering Daniel's own orgasm. His responding cry seemed to come from very far away as his body trembled with release and his vision blurred.

He lay gasping and utterly boneless upon Paul's body, dimly aware of the other man's hands stroking soothingly along his back as he struggled to regain his shattered control. The room was quiet save for their harsh breathing and the low hum of the air-conditioner in the window. When he could breath once more he raised his head to look at the man beneath him. Paul's face wore the look of a man well sated, his eyes soft and his smile warm and slightly smug. Daniel smiled in response as Paul reached up to trace his fingertips along the curve of his lips.

"That was..." Daniel began, his brain struggling to rearrange his disordered brain cells and find a word that could describe what had just passed between them. Nope. No words were coming to mind.

Paul's smile became fonder. "Yeah. Very." He agreed amiably.

Daniel continued looking at the man beneath him, feeling a bit sheepish. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "I know you said that your plans for the weekend didn't include doing it on the sofa."

"Actually," Paul began, "my only quibble about earlier was that I was trying hard to maintain enough control to keep from ravishing you before dinner. For the record, I have no qualms whatsoever about doing it on the sofa. Or against the front door. Or on the floor. Or in the shower. Or on the kitchen table. Or..."

"OK, OK, I get the idea." Daniel groused with a warm smile on his own face. Message received and understood.

Paul rested the palm of his hand against Daniel's cheek and Daniel felt his heart lurch at the devotion he saw on Paul's face. "That was incredible, Daniel. You're incredible. You know that?"

He felt his cheeks warm at the compliment. "It goes both ways Paul."

The other man chuckled. "Yeah, I got that impression." He lightly patted Daniel on the ass. "Why don't we clean up and move this party to the bedroom?"

"You're just full of all kinds of good ideas tonight," Daniel shot back with a sly glance. He moved off the sofa and reached a hand down to help Paul stand then used the clasp to pull his body in close for a long, lingering kiss.

When they parted Paul leaned over and gave Daniel a quick peck on the tip of his nose. "C'mon," he said, drawing Daniel along to his bedroom hidden in the shadows at the top of the stairs.

***

The dim, early morning light was sifting through the curtains of the bedroom window as Paul emerged from sleep. His eyes flickered quickly to the digital display of his clock radio, noting the '7:06' marked in bright red figures, before he turned his head to view the figure sleeping next to him.

Paul had never considered himself to be a particularly philosophical man, but he couldn't help reflecting that sometimes you really do get what you hope for. It was hard to believe that just yesterday Paul had been lying on the bed in Daniel's hotel room wishing desperately that he could stay and watch him sleeping, to see his body bathed in the soft light of morning. And here he was, a little over twenty-four hours later, getting his fondest wish.

Daniel was sprawled on the bed next to him, lying on his stomach, his face turned towards Paul, half hidden by the pillow. The sheet had slipped down, draping over the curve of his buttocks, exposing his upper body to the hazy sunlight. Paul propped himself up on one elbow, admiring the curve of his spine, the sleekly muscled back, the bulge of biceps as his arm curved up beneath the pillow. He was even more beautiful now than he had been bathed in moonlight if such a thing were possible.

He reached a hand out, drawing inquisitive, hungry fingers from broad shoulder to tapered waist. Daniel shifted beneath his touch, sighed softly but did not wake. Paul wasn't terribly surprised that Daniel remained asleep; he was probably worn out from the night's activities. Just thinking about the little, ah, encounter in his living room after dinner brought a smile to his face. He had no idea that demure Dr. Jackson could be so aggressive when it came to sex. It was an unexpected but decidedly welcome discovery. Though given how passionate Daniel was about his work, maybe it shouldn't have come as a surprise.

After the fevered sex in the living room, they'd gone to the bathroom to clean up. That in and of itself had been a delightfully erotic experience. He smiled, remembering Daniel washing him, drawing the damp cloth gently across his belly and thighs, his clever, nimble fingers tracing patterns in his skin. They had retired to Paul's bed where they had spent a long time simply touching and kissing, their bodies moving slowly and subtly together.

The second round of lovemaking had been different; softer, slower and infinitely gentle. The heated urgency of the previous encounter had burned through them, but the underlying passion remained. They had lain on the bed facing one another kissing and caressing, a tangle of limbs as each man wrapped his hand around the other's erection and had brought one another to satisfying completion.

Afterwards, he had spooned his body up behind Daniel's wrapping an arm around his chest and a legs across his, nuzzling the soft hair at his nape until he felt the other man's body relax and drift into slumber. This time there was no need to part, no reason to leave Daniel alone in bed, so he let himself follow Daniel into sleep, his body sated and his mind at ease.

Now here he was lying in his own bed with the man he had coveted for so long beside him. Paul felt almost lightheaded with relief, a small part of him terrified that he might wake to find that the night before, all of it, was simply an amazing dream that vanished with the dawn. He kept finding his hand drawn to the other man's sleeping form, needing to touch to feel warm skin beneath his fingertips to reassure himself that he was really there and not of figment of an over active and over aroused mind.

But even that was not enough. Paul wanted all of him, wanted to taste the stale sweat of his skin, to smell the faint lingering scent of musky arousal clinging to his body, to hear the soft breathy moans as Daniel lost himself to pleasure. He shifted over, moving closer to the other man, feeling the mattress dip beneath his weight. He leaned over to place a soft kiss to the nape of Daniel's neck, a spot he had already discovered was especially sensitive. Daniel's body shivered in response, but remained still. He placed soft kisses along the shoulders, along the jut of bone of the shoulder blade, then slowly and inexorably he worked his way down the spine, counting each vertebrae with a kiss and a flick of tongue. He moved to the side, trailing his tongue along the curve of the ribs from back to front, then reversing direction.

Daniel's body began to shift, responding in his sleep to the gentle but persistent stimulation Paul was bringing to bear upon him. He reached down, pulling the cotton sheet away to reveal the rest of Daniel's body. He sprinkled delicate kisses along the other man's buttocks before trailing his tongue along the crack, slipping it inside and drawing it down and then up in long smooth strokes. Daniel moaned, a deep, throaty sound and then his legs moved apart, responding instinctively, welcoming the erotic foray. He drew his tongue further down to the dark pucker, flicking and teasing before slipping quickly in and then out again.

"Paul," Daniel's sleepy voice whispered as his hips bucked, moving into the stimulation at his anus. "Mmm, Paul...feels so good."

"So do you, Daniel," Paul responded, his own voice husky with desire. He moved rapidly back up along Daniel's body, planting quick, haphazard kisses along the way. He covered Daniel's body with his own, stretching out the entire length. He kissed Daniel once again behind the ear and then asked "What do you want, Daniel?"

"This," Daniel answered, his voice dreamy with a mixture of slumber and lust. "Like this. Your weight on me. Feels good."

"God, Daniel. You are so beautiful. Do you have any idea?"

Daniel didn't respond with words, instead he shifted his legs so that Paul's erect cock slipped between the crack in his ass, the entire heated length flush against his buttocks. "Daniel," he hissed as he felt himself grow impossibly harder.

"Mmm, yes. That feels good."

Daniel stretched his arms out, resting them over Paul's, entwining their fingers together. Then he raised his hips upwards. Paul groaned and his own hips shifted and moved in response. Daniel writhed beneath him, a slow, undulating motion like a serpent, and Paul moved against him in counterpoint, his cock still resting nestled between the cheeks of Daniel's ass. Paul nuzzled Daniel's hair, slipping his tongue in the other man's ear, delighting in the shivers the action elicited. And all the while Daniel undulated beneath him while Paul slowly fucked against his buttocks.

Like the last time, the lovemaking was slow and lush, their bodies moving with a slumberous languor. It went on for a long time, their bodies rising and falling in the hushed stillness of the bedroom that was broken only by the occasional moan or softly whispered of endearment. Eventually, however, the need to reach completion transformed the sensuous, indolent mood of their early morning sex, infusing it with a greater urgency. Paul's thrusts became shorter and faster, Daniel was bucking upwards with greater force until they tumbled into heaving gasping pleasure.

Daniel released Paul's hands, stretching his arms up over his head as Paul collapsed over onto his back next to him.

"Mmm, that was nice," Daniel purred, his manner and movement uncannily like that of a cat rising from slumber. He looked over at Paul through half lidded eyes, an inscrutable smile on his face. It was no good; Paul had to kiss him. He rolled over towards Daniel who welcomed him with open arms and soft lips. God, how had he lived without this, without him for so long?

Paul collapsed once more onto his back, turning his head to look at the thoroughly pleased man at his side. "Hell of a way to start the morning," Daniel observed, his voice as smug as his expression.

"You'll get no argument from me."

"Well then, how 'bout coffee?" Daniel asked.

Paul laughed. "You have a one track mind."

"I beg to differ," Daniel sniffed in mock hauteur. "I am quite sure I have two tracks at the very least. Don't tell me you weren't paying attention to the first one?"

He reached over and stroked a hand along Daniel's back, an act that was quickly becoming a favorite pastime. "Oh no. There is no way I could have missed that one, Daniel." He pulled himself off the bed and made his way over to the other side, dropping a quick kiss on one bare shoulder before snagging his robe at the bottom of the bed. "One pot of coffee coming up."

"Mmm," was Daniel's only response before he slipped once more into sleep.

Home