A spot of J/D housekeeping: a plug, plus 'Let Me Walk in the Sun Once More'
First, go and read Beautiful Certainty, which ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jdjunkie wrote for me using the prompt: Jack/Daniel/Sara, water under the bridge. No, it isn't a three-way! It's a quiet gem that made me all misty, like.
Second, a ficlet I wrote forjdjunkie's recent (okay, a month ago) Four Seasons in One 'Thon. The season is Winter. ~740 words, rated PG
Let Me Walk in the Sun Once More
The evening deteriorated, as so many evenings did. Jack hadn't invited Daniel. Daniel didn't need an invitation. Daniel had come out in the rain, because he wanted to be with Jack. Jack didn't particularly want company, even Daniel's. Maybe especially Daniel's. Jack would rather be alone to hate himself and his life choices and the oaths that he broke on a semi-regular basis. A bottle of whiskey, some gloomy opera, and the splatter of rain against the roof and windows. That was what he wanted.
He was a master of passive-aggressiveness when he wanted to be. Almost as good as Daniel. Daniel beat him hands down at being stubborn, though. So Jack was cool and standoffish, and Daniel refused to take a hint. For over an hour, Daniel refused to take a hint.
It was a recipe for disaster. Or for a great fuck. It could go either way.
Tonight it was the first. Jack channel surfed and spoke in monosyllables, watching the little telltale twitches around Daniel's eyes. Enjoying them. Prodding. Pressing. Letting Daniel see that he was enjoying himself, that he didn't give a rat's ass.
Being an ass. Of enormous proportions.
"You're such an ass." Daniel got up from the couch, lips pressed tight.
Finally! "Leaving so soon?" Jack drawled.
"What am I even doing here? That's the real question."
Jack rose. "I couldn't tell ya."
Daniel picked up his coat and shrugged into it. "No, because you're also an idiot."
Jack had won this round, so he ignored that one. "I'll see you out."
"An idiot, an ass, and a gentleman," Daniel mocked. There was no flush of color on his cheekbones, no raised volume to his voice. No passion. Maybe he didn't give a rat's ass either. Maybe he could see that this would never work, and that they shouldn't even be trying.
Because, goddamnit, there was an 'officer' in front of that 'and a gentleman.'
Jack opened the door without flourish. Victory was feeling pretty hollow.
"Goodnight." Daniel stepped through the door, turning his jacket collar up against the rain and wind.
"Goodnight, Daniel." Jack didn't particularly want to watch Daniel walking away from him, so he stepped back and swung the door closed. A cry and a thud had him jerking it open a second later.
Daniel was flat on his back on the sidewalk. Not moving.
"Daniel?" Jack shot through the door and down the porch steps.
"Don't!"
Too late. While they'd been busy tormenting each other, the temperature outside had plummeted. Just beyond the protection of the porch roof overhang, Jack's feet went out from under him as they touched the ice-coated brick sidewalk, and he went rocketing towards Daniel, who wrapped one arm protectively around his head and fended Jack off with the other.
Like an overturned turtle, Jack spun on his back, ending up nearly perpendicular to Daniel, with his head on Daniel's stomach. He rested there for a moment, collecting himself. Freezing rain spat against his upturned face. He felt like spitting back. "Apparently, to go along with all my other attributes, I'm also a prat." His head bobbed up and down as Daniel coughed out laughter.
"A prat is an ass."
Jack scrabbled with his heels on the lawn, pulling himself free of the skating rink that used to be his front walk. He reached back a hand for Daniel and pulled him to more secure ground before pushing himself to his feet. He couldn't stop the hiss.
Daniel rose easily and put a hand to Jack's lower back. "Okay?"
Jack failed not to sigh. "A really old prat."
Daniel rubbed soothingly. "My favorite kind."
Oh? "The pain's actually a little farther down."
Daniel's hand didn't move. "I think we've already put on enough of a show for the neighbors."
Jack scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. "You coming back in?" Daniel's hand slid up between his shoulders as Daniel stepped closer, nodding.
"I think I clearly require something for shock."
"Bushmills?" Jack suggested, looking at his open front door.
"Yeah. Sounds about right."
They inched toward the house, keeping to the grass. "We could check each other for bruising," Jack offered. Daniel's thumb slowly brushed his neck. Agreement.
Promise.
They would keep bruising each other. Keep coming back for more. Jack would probably never stop being an idiot, never stop feeling ridden with guilt.
Love was never easy.
Bruises always healed.
jdjunkie wrote for me using the prompt: Jack/Daniel/Sara, water under the bridge. No, it isn't a three-way! It's a quiet gem that made me all misty, like.Second, a ficlet I wrote for
jdjunkie's recent (okay, a month ago) Four Seasons in One 'Thon. The season is Winter. ~740 words, rated PGLet Me Walk in the Sun Once More
The evening deteriorated, as so many evenings did. Jack hadn't invited Daniel. Daniel didn't need an invitation. Daniel had come out in the rain, because he wanted to be with Jack. Jack didn't particularly want company, even Daniel's. Maybe especially Daniel's. Jack would rather be alone to hate himself and his life choices and the oaths that he broke on a semi-regular basis. A bottle of whiskey, some gloomy opera, and the splatter of rain against the roof and windows. That was what he wanted.
He was a master of passive-aggressiveness when he wanted to be. Almost as good as Daniel. Daniel beat him hands down at being stubborn, though. So Jack was cool and standoffish, and Daniel refused to take a hint. For over an hour, Daniel refused to take a hint.
It was a recipe for disaster. Or for a great fuck. It could go either way.
Tonight it was the first. Jack channel surfed and spoke in monosyllables, watching the little telltale twitches around Daniel's eyes. Enjoying them. Prodding. Pressing. Letting Daniel see that he was enjoying himself, that he didn't give a rat's ass.
Being an ass. Of enormous proportions.
"You're such an ass." Daniel got up from the couch, lips pressed tight.
Finally! "Leaving so soon?" Jack drawled.
"What am I even doing here? That's the real question."
Jack rose. "I couldn't tell ya."
Daniel picked up his coat and shrugged into it. "No, because you're also an idiot."
Jack had won this round, so he ignored that one. "I'll see you out."
"An idiot, an ass, and a gentleman," Daniel mocked. There was no flush of color on his cheekbones, no raised volume to his voice. No passion. Maybe he didn't give a rat's ass either. Maybe he could see that this would never work, and that they shouldn't even be trying.
Because, goddamnit, there was an 'officer' in front of that 'and a gentleman.'
Jack opened the door without flourish. Victory was feeling pretty hollow.
"Goodnight." Daniel stepped through the door, turning his jacket collar up against the rain and wind.
"Goodnight, Daniel." Jack didn't particularly want to watch Daniel walking away from him, so he stepped back and swung the door closed. A cry and a thud had him jerking it open a second later.
Daniel was flat on his back on the sidewalk. Not moving.
"Daniel?" Jack shot through the door and down the porch steps.
"Don't!"
Too late. While they'd been busy tormenting each other, the temperature outside had plummeted. Just beyond the protection of the porch roof overhang, Jack's feet went out from under him as they touched the ice-coated brick sidewalk, and he went rocketing towards Daniel, who wrapped one arm protectively around his head and fended Jack off with the other.
Like an overturned turtle, Jack spun on his back, ending up nearly perpendicular to Daniel, with his head on Daniel's stomach. He rested there for a moment, collecting himself. Freezing rain spat against his upturned face. He felt like spitting back. "Apparently, to go along with all my other attributes, I'm also a prat." His head bobbed up and down as Daniel coughed out laughter.
"A prat is an ass."
Jack scrabbled with his heels on the lawn, pulling himself free of the skating rink that used to be his front walk. He reached back a hand for Daniel and pulled him to more secure ground before pushing himself to his feet. He couldn't stop the hiss.
Daniel rose easily and put a hand to Jack's lower back. "Okay?"
Jack failed not to sigh. "A really old prat."
Daniel rubbed soothingly. "My favorite kind."
Oh? "The pain's actually a little farther down."
Daniel's hand didn't move. "I think we've already put on enough of a show for the neighbors."
Jack scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. "You coming back in?" Daniel's hand slid up between his shoulders as Daniel stepped closer, nodding.
"I think I clearly require something for shock."
"Bushmills?" Jack suggested, looking at his open front door.
"Yeah. Sounds about right."
They inched toward the house, keeping to the grass. "We could check each other for bruising," Jack offered. Daniel's thumb slowly brushed his neck. Agreement.
Promise.
They would keep bruising each other. Keep coming back for more. Jack would probably never stop being an idiot, never stop feeling ridden with guilt.
Love was never easy.
Bruises always healed.