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“No, I’m not going,” Daniel said to Jack for the eighth time that day.  “And if you ask me one more time, I’m gonna smack you one.”

Jack twisted his lips to one side, frustrated but not deterred.  “It’s a high school reunion, Daniel, not a Goa’uld raid.”

Daniel snorted.  “I’ll take the raid.”  He was down to the last three items in the kitchen sink and the casserole dish was being a bear.  Damn Corning Ware anyway.  Stupid ziti just had to burn a bit around the lip.  That was the last time he’d let Jack load the dish.  You always had to butter the lip, dammit.  He supposed he could let the dish sit and soak, but he hated dishes in the sink.  Jack always teased him about it.  “You’re OCD,” he’d say.  He set the dish down and pulled out the bread pan from underneath and while he cleaned that, Jack stood next to him, drying the other dishes and putting them away.  “Your ulterior motives are the problem, Jack.  No.”

Jack grinned as he put another plate away.  He wanted to meet Daniel’s former girlfriend.  Or girlfriends.  And, if possible, former boyfriend.  Back then it had been on the down-low so that meeting, if it happened, would be far more interesting than girlfriends.  Jack knew Daniel didn’t really have a type when it came to looks.  What he liked were strong women, and just how many women were strong back in 1983?  Hadn’t that been the age of Valley Girls?  No, wait, Valley Girls were California-only weren’t they?  He couldn’t remember.  He’d graduated in Chicago.  Almost all the girls were tough there.  They had to be.  Chicago, hello?

But when it came to boyfriends, Jack had no clue what Daniel’s type was.  He was the only man he knew that Daniel had dated.  At least since college.  So what about high school?  He had to see this guy—and he knew there was one because he’d gotten Daniel to spill about him.  Okay, coerced Daniel into spilling about him.  It’d been two years ago, the last time he’d been part of the team, and they’d been off-world.  Jack had the last nutrition bar and Daniel wanted it.  He hated the things but Daniel loved them and they’d had twelve more hours to go on that planetary survey.  And Daniel, damn him, had hedged, used a lawyering tactic.

“I said I had one, Jack.  You didn’t specify details.”

“That was implicit, Daniel, and you know it.”

“No, it wasn’t.  You asked if I had a boyfriend in high school.  The answer is yes.  Hand over the bar.”

So Jack had and he’d gotten back at Daniel during his first year as General by assigning him to SG-11 while they’d been on a swampy planet.  Of course, Daniel had repaid him by ignoring him for a month.  That had been cold.  Quite literally, given the number of showers he’d had to use.

Nowadays, Daniel didn’t do that.  If he pissed off his husband, Daniel would simply hit him.  Well, with boxing gloves.  Daniel had decided that the only way to resolve issues between them was to get to a gym—preferably the one in the basement of their house—and box away the anger or resentment or whatever was bothering them.

Jack simply preferred to needle Daniel, but he had to admit, boxing was fun.  Most times.  Now though, it wasn’t necessary.  There was no real anger, although he knew damn well that Daniel would cuff him upside the head if he kept pestering.  They both did that when one of them said something a bit too far and they tried not to do that at work—at least, in front of others, especially Carter and Teal’c.

He was down to drying the bread pan when Daniel placed the ziti pan in the drainer.  “Daniel,” he began.  Daniel held up a finger, cutting him off.  It made Jack want to bite it, then other things, but he shut up instead.

Daniel saw the look in Jack’s eyes and rolled his own.  “You’re being an asshole,” he said and walked around him, leaving the kitchen.

“I love you too,” Jack called after him, but Daniel headed to the bathroom to relieve himself.  Every time he thought about going to that reunion in over in Providence, Rhode Island, he cringed.  It hadn’t been a bad school.  Classical had been a good one, even in the early 80s.  But he just didn’t want to see anyone from there.  He’d been a geeky, awkward teen, head buried in books, occasionally picked on by bullies—he’d love to see what they looked like now, compared to him, but not enough to actually go.

And he really didn’t want to see Brian Connelly, if he actually showed up.  More importantly, he didn’t want Jack to see him.  Brian had been, well, a bad boy.  Chronically late, heavy pot smoker, rebelled against authority.  You know, the usual.  Not a criminal, at least.  Aside from the pot smoking.  Brian took a lot of art classes.  But despite all the detentions and one temporary expulsion, he’d managed to get good grades and graduated with a decent average.  What had it been?  3 … point … something.  Daniel couldn’t remember.  Daniel’s had been 3.9.  He never got good grades in gym because he’d been so damn shy to apply himself, so gotten his foster mom to say he had a back problem and asked to assign him to library science instead.  He’d excelled there.  And no one had bothered to ask how he managed to carry all those books if he’d had such a bad back.

That was when he’d met Brian, during junior year.  The guy loved to read, loved to learn.  He’d read some fiction book and it would mention something in real life so Brian would go look it up.  They’d met in the history section, where Daniel had been, studying anthropology courses for the college exams.

The moment he’d seen him, talked to him, Daniel had discovered that he wasn’t just interested in girls.  The day he’d found out that Brian had liked him, too—

“You gonna do that for a while, Daniel?” Jack asked.

Daniel blinked, stared down at his hands under the faucet.  He’d long since rinsed them.  Clearing his throat, he gave Jack a hard look and shut off the faucet and dried his hands with a paper towel.  They had a dispenser instead of hand towels.  Not environmentally friendly, but more sanitary.  He’d have to buy more hand towels to get back into using them.

“What were you thinking about?” Jack asked him.

“School,” Daniel said, deciding to be half-honest.

“Bullshit,” Jack said with a grin.

Daniel growled.  Sometimes Jack was too intuitive for his tastes.  He sighed then and looked at Jack with narrowed eyes.  “Fine.  You win.  Send back the RSVP.”

“Yes!” Jack said, pleased with himself as he went to the desk and grabbed the letter.

“Bastard,” Daniel grumbled.

“I heard that,” Jack called over.

“Don’t care,” Daniel sing-songed back.

 

.*.*.*.

 

Sometimes Daniel wondered if Jack even knew what fashion was.  Mind you, his own sense had a late-blooming thanks to Sam and Janet.  They needed to force Jack into the 21st century, for cryin’ out loud.  He’d tried but Jack wouldn’t listen to him.

Until now.  Daniel had told him he wouldn’t leave the goddamn state until Jack got himself either a new set of Dress Blues or a decent suit.  The old uniform had been in moth ball state and Daniel had tossed them before Jack had known about it.  The new ones were beautiful, as was the grey suit Daniel had Jack fitted for.  The only problem had been which one Jack would choose to wear.

In the end, Jack had opted for his Dress Blues for two reasons.  One, Daniel loved him in them.  Two, he wanted to send a message to any old bullies.  He knew there had been some.  There always were.  Daniel was tight-lipped about it, and Jack didn’t press.  That was always a sore subject, no matter who you were, because everyone had experience with bullies, including the ones who did the bullying—though theirs were usually at home, hence the trickle-down effect at school.

Daniel had parked the truck (he’d insisted; he hadn’t been about to give Jack directions) and they were entering the school when Daniel slowed down and suddenly stopped, needlessly brushing dust from his black jacket.

“What?” Jack asked, looking at Daniel, then around to see if he’d been looking at anyone.  He hadn’t.  “Nervous?” he asked as he tucked his cap under one arm.  Daniel gave him a “no shit, Sherlock” look.  “Look, you’ve no reason.  You’re hot and you’re mine.  So they can suck—“

“Jack,” Daniel said sharply and his husband only grinned back.

They proceeded down two halls, following the signs to the auditorium.  They’d changed its location.  As they walked in, a dark blue cloth banner was hung from the ceiling by the far wall and in white cursive letters was the school motto: “Certare, Petere, Reperire, Neque Cedere.” Below that in block letters was the translation: “to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” It was from Tennyson’s poem, Ulysses.

“Nice,” Jack said, then their attention was diverted to a reception table on their left where Daniel had to sign the attendance book, write in Jack’s name, and get name tags—they were just the standard “Hi, I am ___”.

“Can’t afford the expensive ones?” Jack asked as he moved to the side of the table to write on his.

“Guess not,” Daniel muttered.

Poising the black marker, Jack couldn’t help himself.  He wrote “An authority figure” on his blank line.  Daniel grinned and followed his lead, writing in “Invisible”.

Jack snorted.  “Wishful thinking?”

“Yep,” he said, spying the bar set up under the banner.  “Let’s find something alcoholic.”

“I’m in.”

As they crossed the expansive room, Daniel wished like hell he’d never given in to Jack.  Every fiber told him to get out.  He wished it was his inner alarm bells instead of that goddamn queasy insecurity.  He looked around casually, annoyed that they hadn’t been late.  The room was too empty, making him and Jack stand out.  Of course, Jack would stand out no matter what.  Daniel fiddled with his wedding ring, spinning it with his thumb, completely unaware that he was doing it.

Nearing the bar, he smirked.  It was a very long one and several people were already standing there.  He wasn’t the only nervous one, it seemed.  He and Jack stopped behind what apparently was a line and he sighed.  “Once we get something, let’s go act like wallflowers.”

“Daniel,” Jack said, rolling his eyes.

Daniel returned the face.  “We’re here, dammit.  I’d just like to stay for a bit without being recognized by anyone.”

“Too late,” said a male voice behind him.

Deep, smooth, confident.  Familiar.  Daniel felt the backs of his knees go a little weak, and he knew it wasn’t out of desire.  It was nerves.  He hated them and could never avoid them, unless you took the plural out of it and changed the meaning of the term.  Nerve.  He’d always had that, sometimes not to his advantage.  Swallowing, he half-turned to see the speaker, hoping like hell he’d see someone fat and balding.

Alas.

Beside him, Jack had arched a brow as he too turned to see who it was.  His radar was already pinging and by the time he saw the man, that alarm went from “Alert” to “Danger”.  There stood a handsome man his own height with silver-tinged black hair, blue eyes, groomed mustache and goatee.  He was slender but not too skinny.  More like a swimmer than a runner.  He wore what Jack called office casual.  Black slacks, lavender shirt, grey jacket, no tie but a Native American version in its place.  Diamond stud earrings.  No wedding ring, but that didn’t mean anything.  Still, the man appeared to be alone.  Damn.

“Brian,” Daniel said, glad that he managed to sound confident despite the memories clanging inside his head.  He held his hand out.

“Daniel,” Brian said, frowning slightly as he hesitantly shook Daniel’s hand.  “So formal.”

“Given our parting, I think this is best.” Daniel deferred to Jack.  “This is my husband, Jack.”

Jack gave Brian a measured smile, one that was just shy of flirting, and held out his hand.  “Well. Hello there, ex-boyfriend.”  Daniel groaned and Brian only gave Jack a wide smile as he shook Jack’s hand.  Jack made sure he didn’t do the dumbass macho thing and crush the man’s hand, but he wasn’t about to let Daniel’s comment go unnoticed.  “Parted with a bit of ‘don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out’?” he asked his husband.

“Something like that.”

“Daniel tell you about me?” Brian asked, as if trying to smooth things over.

Jack gave the man a smirk.  “Tight as the proverbial clam, but I know him.  It doesn’t take a genius to catch the vibes.”

Brian only nodded.

“He’s annoying that way,” Daniel remarked, giving Jack a mild warning.

“Are you active duty?” Brian asked as he looked at the stars on Jack’s epaulettes.

Jack nodded.  “Still swinging.”

“You here alone?” Daniel asked.

“Not on your life,” Brian said with a smile.  “Think I’m showing up to this thing by myself?  I need backup.”

Daniel thumbed at Jack.  “It’s his doing I’m even here.”

Brian nodded again.  “So, how’ve you been?”

“Fine.  You?”

“Fine.”

“Kids?” Daniel asked.

“Nope. You?”

“Nope.”

“This is scintillating conversation,” Jack quipped.

“Isn’t it?” Brian said with a sigh.  “How about more?  What do you do, Daniel?”

“I work for him,” Daniel replied evasively.

“For?” Brian asked, surprised and quickly looked at Daniel’s suit as if he’d missed the military uniform somehow.

“Civilian contractor.  Linguist.”

“Really?” Brian had a lot of questions in his eyes.

“What do you do?” Daniel returned.

“Researcher.  Amnesty International.”

Daniel’s brows went up.  That had always been Brian’s aim.  Well, not the company, per se, but the humanitarian work.  “Nice.  Dangerous job though.”

Brian shrugged.  “It has its moments.”  A young man in his late 20s walked up to Brian and took his elbow, whispering in his ear.  Brian nodded and took out his phone.  “Daniel, Jack, this is my partner, Stuart.  Stuart, this is Daniel, my ex, and his husband.”  Without waiting for exchanges of greetings, he added, “Excuse me, gentlemen,” and walked out of line and out of earshot to talk to the young man while he dialed a number.

“That’s a drag,” Jack commented.

“What?” Daniel asked.

“He brings his work with him.  Can’t be good for Stuart.”

“Pot, kettle, Jack.”

“Military is different, Daniel.”

Daniel shrugged acknowledgement.  “Think that’s a co-worker or a lover?” he said, pointing his chin at the young man.

“Coming to a reunion with him?  Probably both,” Jack observed.

To Brian’s credit and Daniel’s surprise, he returned to them with Stuart in tow.  “Sorry about that.”

“Nothing wrong, I hope?” Daniel said politely.

“Plenty wrong, I’m afraid.  Been tracking a slavery ring.”  He made a face.  “Just got a call from a source.  They’re acting squirrely.”

Inwardly, Daniel was amused by adjective.  It was a phrase Jack used.  “How so?  If you can talk about it, that is.”

Brian hedged.  “I don’t know.  Not a very good conversation subject, is it?”

“Better than the crap you guys were doing before,” Jack said.  “I mean, it was obviously forced.  I think that’s probably the biggest drag about these get-togethers, ya know?”

“I don’t mind,” Daniel said, and was about to offer their help but stomped on the urge.  Jack might have his head.

“So what’s squirrely?” Jack asked.

“They’re not behaving like the other rings we’ve tracked.  There’s no outgoing movement.  They just keep bringing in people but they don’t leave.”

“How’re they housed?” Jack asked.

“Inside a cave, of all places.  Off the coast of an island in the pacific.  There should be ships with cargo containers moving back and forth in the shipping lanes but we’ve only seen boats going ashore with prisoners, never leaving with them.  If it weren’t an island, I’d think they were slipping out their cargo underground.”

“Mining?” Jack suggested.

“Nope,” Brian shook his head.  “No product ever leaves.”

“Can we help in any way?” Jack asked and Daniel’s brows shot up.  “You were going to ask,” he smirked and Daniel jogged his brows in response.

“I don’t see how,” Brian answered.

“What’re the coordinates?” Jack asked as he pulled out his phone.

“You mean longitude-latitude?” Brian asked, surprised.

“Yes.”

Brian looked at Stuart and gave him a nod.  Stuart took out his own phone and a moment later, handed it to Jack.  Jack moved away, lowering his voice as he called in to the Control Room and asked Davis to contact the Prometheus and have them take a look.

As Jack talked, Brian gave Daniel a suspicious look.  “What’s he doing?”

“Satellite scanning.”  He couldn’t tell him the truth, much as he’d like to.

“You have access to that?”

“Air Force,” Daniel said, as if it should be obvious.

“Air Force does that sort of thing?” Brian asked, even more suspicious.

“Well, yeah.  Vandenberg Air Force base is responsible for tracking all the garbage flying around the planet so that the space station can move when something big comes its way or if a satellite needs to turn slightly.  We’ve actually been unusually lucky that our satellites haven’t been hit.”

“Oh.  So what’s Jack looking up then?”

“We’ll find out,” Daniel said.

“You don’t know yourself?” Brian asked, appearing stunned.

“What I meant was we’ll find out what the satellites tell us.”

“Oh.”

Back by the wall, Jack was listening to Davis talk when Carter got on the line.

“Sir, Prometheus has located a small Goa’uld scout ship cloaked in orbit.”

“Sonofabitch.”

“You had a feeling, sir?”

“Something like that.”

“May I ask?”

“I’ll let you know Monday, Carter.  Hammond’s been notified?”

“He’s on line to them now, sir.”

“And?”

“One moment, sir.”

“By the way, Carter. What the hell are you doing there?  Downtime, remember?”

“Sorry, sir.  I got bored.  Janet’s at her parents and I didn’t want to go.  So I came here.”

“What, you don’t like her parents?”

Carter sighed.  “Mom, yes.  Dad, no.”

“Care to elaborate.”

“Monday,” she evaded.

Jack grinned.  “Gotcha.  What’s the news?”

“Here’s the General, sir,” she said, and Hammond came on the line.

“Jack,” George Hammond said.  “And here I thought being the head of Homeworld would be boring.”

Jack grinned.  “Could be worse, sir.”

“Indeed.  Well, we have the scout ship and the goa’uld in custody.  How in the hell did you know about this?”

“I didn’t, sir.  I had a hunch after talking to a fella here at Daniel’s high school reunion.  Works for Amnesty International as a researcher and he’s been doing work on slavery rings.  He told us about one that had no outgoing cargo, and since it’s an island, it just didn’t sit right.  I didn’t have a clue why, but it smelled funny, you know?”

Hammond snorted.  “Anyone else would never have made that jump.  Nice job, Jack.  Your job sitting right with you?”

“Took some getting used to, that’s for sure.  I don’t know how you did it.”

“Practice.”

Jack laughed.

“Well, it’s nice to know you have your eye on the ball, not that it would have been an issue.”

“No, sir.  Are you going to go find out where the ship came from?”

“They’re already backtracking,” Hammond said.

“Got it.”

“Will fill you in on Monday.  Get back to the reunion.”

“Yes, sir.”  They hung up.

Jack returned and handed the phone back to Stuart.  “Problem solved.  A destroyer is being sent to round up the prisoners, arrest any slavers.”

Brian blinked, momentarily speechless.

Daniel gave Jack a look and the one he received in return told him he’d get the explanation later.

“How?” Stuart asked just when Brian found his voice.

“Yes.  How?”

Jack only smiled at him.  “We work in Colorado Springs, if that’s of any use to you.”

“It isn’t,” Brian said, annoyed.  “Why aren’t you in the business of rounding up slavery rings yourself if it’s that damn easy?”

“Unique situation,” Daniel said before Jack could.  “It was probably close to a training operation they’re conducting, so they were able to assist.  You got lucky.”  Jack nodded agreement.

“I’d say those prisoners got lucky,” Brian said, obviously not satisfied with the answer.  “I’d still like an answer.”

“You’re not getting one that will satisfy you, Brian.  Just be satisfied we were able to help and move on,” Jack said, and he used the tone reserved for polite but firm warnings.

Brian frowned.  “Nice to see you, Daniel.  Later.”  He and Stuart walked away, immediately wrapped up in conversation.

“Well, I’m gonna guess that story will be all over the internet later.”

“It had better not be,” Jack growled.

Daniel sighed.  “So what was it?”  Jack told him.  “Holy shit!  I suppose Hammond will have the Prometheus out of orbit to hunt down the carrier ship that scout came from.”

“Very likely.”

“So.  We can leave now, if you like,” Daniel offered hopefully.

“Not quite yet.  What was that business about parting ways?”

Daniel shook his head.  “Not telling you.”

“Why not?”

Daniel gave him a stern look.  “Because I’m not ready to tell you about it.  It’ll only make me mad.  Truth be told, I’m already a little mad thinking of it.”

“Not over it?”

“Oh, I’m over it.  But it’s one of those things, Jack.  You over your ex’s fucking you over?”

“Yes,” Jack allowed between gritted teeth.  “I see your point.”

“So, let’s go home.  I don’t really want another pass at Brian, or talk to anyone else here.”

“Not many people here yet.”

“I don’t care.”

“Daniel,” Jack chided.  “You never talk about high school.  Was it that bad?”

Daniel squirmed.  “Yes and no.  It was just embarrassing at times.  I got picked on.  Geek with glasses, hair all in my face, skin and bones.  You know.  When I wasn’t in class, or when I was in gym, these three guys used to give me shit all the time.  I wasn’t a coward about it, never cowered in fear, but I never won those battles, either.  Or at least, I never seemed to.  Always got laughed at afterward.”  He ground his jaw.  “If I see any of those people tonight, I’m going to be tempted to get payback.  But my style of payback is words and that never served me before.  It still doesn’t.  I just don’t want to be here.”

Jack stared at him.  “So it was never about seeing the ex,” he said with realization.  He put an arm around him.  “You don’t realize how big an impact you’ve made at the base, Daniel.  How you don’t return bad behavior with your fists.  Instead, you tear down with words.  It actually teaches lessons.  Just because we Neanderthals don’t understand it doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.”

Daniel rolled his eyes but didn’t walk out of Jack’s embrace.  “Sometimes … I’d just … like to kick someone’s ass.”

Jack chuckled.  “You certainly know how.”

“Thanks to you and Teal’c.”

“And Carter.”

“And Sam.”

“Uh oh, heads up.  I think someone’s coming over.”

“Shit.  Get me out of here.”  He started to turn but Jack held him fast.

“Grin and bear it and it’ll all be over with,” Jack told him.

“Funny.  That’s what I used to say back then, you wise ass.”

It turned out to be two members of the debate club and after that, a few people from other classes.  Over the next hour, Daniel started to relax, but there was still the fear of confronting those boys, now men.  Brian hovered on the periphery, and occasionally Daniel caught him staring, but that was easily handled.  He was used to staring.

Eventually, Daniel found himself growing bored.  And hungry.  The buffet was not appealing.

“Come on, Jack.  Time to go.  I’m bored and hungry.”

“Okay,” Jack said, tapping his stomach.  “Me too.”

“Finally we agree,” Daniel replied.

Exiting the front doors, they passed two men in suits having a smoke.  One of them spoke.

“That you, Jackson?”

Daniel turned, not recognizing the voice.  He didn’t recognize the speaker either.  Balding, red-faced, overweight, and his suit was ill-fitting.  “Who’s asking?”

“Jerry, man.  Shepherd.”

“Oh, you,” Daniel said, and turned back to continue walking.  One of his bullies.

“Hey wait,” Jerry said but Daniel kept walking.

“Hey, he’s talking to you,” the other man said, raising his voice.

Daniel turned and the other man looked about the same as Jerry, only thinner.  “And so are you,” Daniel told him.  “Rudely.  Goodnight.”

“Fucking pansy-ass,” the rude man said.

“Shut up, Frank,” Jerry said.  “Jackson, I apologize.”

Daniel paused in his step.  Frank.  Francis Mahoney.  One of the other bullies.  He turned to look at Jerry, ignoring Frank.  “Thanks.  And you wanted something?”

“Just to say s—“

“Shut up, Jerry,” Frank warned.

“Fuck off, Frank.  Yeah, to apologize for back then.”

“Accepted.  Have a nice night, Jerry.  Take care of your friend there before something bad happens.”

“Fuck off, Jackson.”

Daniel rolled his eyes and turned away, continuing to Jack’s truck.  Frank continued to shout at him, but Daniel found it didn’t matter.  The guy didn’t faze him.  Maybe it was time, or Jerry’s apology, but all that dread he’d been suffering had just evaporated.

“Okay?” Jack asked as they drove off.

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Much ado over nothing.”

“For once,” Daniel smirked.  “Now, can we go home, order a pizza, get drunk, have crazy sex, and go to bed?”

“Leave the drunk part out and you have a deal,” Jack replied.

“I need a drink.”

“Okay.”

“Or five.”

“Daniel.”

“I need unwinding.”

“I can do that for you,” Jack grinned.

 

.*.*.*.

 

Daniel had two drinks of JackDaniel’s by the time the pizza was delivered and one more by the time they’d eaten half the box.  He sat on the sofa, mostly undressed, listening to music.  His black dress shirt was open, his posturing slouching, and he eyed Jack as he walked back and forth between the living room and kitchen, stripping off his clothes.  When he was down to his own boxer briefs, he regarded Daniel over the rim of his own glass of JD.

“Jack, what are you doing over there?” He rubbed himself through the boxer briefs.  “How about that unwinding?”

Jack grinned and strolled over to stand over him.  “Want something?” he asked as he put his own drink down on the end table.  He leaned forward, towering over Daniel and kissed his nose.  “That help?”

Daniel laughed.  “Hardly.”

Jack lowered a little and kissed his mouth.  “That help?”

“It’s pathetic.”

Jack stood up.  “My kiss is pathetic?”  He started to turn.  “I’m going to bed.”

“Get back here,” Daniel said, trapping Jack’s legs with his and reaching to grab an arm.

Jack grinned down at him, then grabbed a throw pillow and dropped it on the floor between Daniel’s legs.  He sank onto it and leaned over, settling his weight over Daniel’s groin and stomach.  “What do you want?” he asked and dug his chin lightly into his husband’s navel.

“I think you know,” Daniel said.

Jack leaned back, eyed Daniel’s groin, giving him a questioning look.  “This?” he asked as he took down the briefs and tossed them aside.

“Warmer,” Daniel said.  His cock was half-hard and he refused to touch himself, to make it an offering.

Jack took him in hand and stroked him lightly.  “So tell me.  How was it, your first time?”

Daniel gave him a dirty look.  “Too fast.”

“How old?”

“15.”

Jack grinned and bent his head to lick at the head.  Daniel twitched.  “At that age, it always is.  How’d you get it?”

Daniel caressed Jack’s arms.  “Back of a car.”

Jack stroked him harder, then tasted the head, taking it inside his mouth once and removing it.  He kept his gaze on Daniel the entire time and continued to do so as he repeated his actions a few more times.  “Who was it?”  And a few more.

Daniel didn’t answer.  He was already moving his hips, begging Jack for more.

Jack swallowed him and bobbed slowly, his eyes never leaving Daniel’s.

“Brian,” Daniel said, swallowing.

Jack removed his mouth and licked up and down the shaft.  “He swallow?”

“No.  He liked to watch.”

Jack’s smile was twisted.  “Oh?  Like this then?”  He bent to task, swallowing Daniel again and again, faster and faster until he pulled back and jerked him off.  Daniel suddenly shoved his hand away and sat forward, pulling Jack’s briefs down before he laid back.

Jack didn’t need to pull forward by that time.  He sank his cock into Daniel, thrusting immediately.

“Fuck me hard, dammit!” Daniel said and pulled his knees up.

“Did he after?” Jack hissed as sped up his rhythm, slapping skin against skin.  He stroked his lover’s cock, squeezing.

“Shit yes!  First time!” Daniel panted as he threw back his head, coming hard.  “Fuck!”

Jack swore as he pounded into him, surprising himself as he came.  It had been a long time since he’d come that quickly.  “Jesus Christ,” he gasped, emptying into Daniel with jerks and spasms.

He laid over his husband, loving the warmth and sweat as their hearts hammered.  When they finally began to slow down, Jack kissed him thoroughly and rested his arms beside his head.  He smiled at him.  Daniel’s eyes were still closed.

When he opened them and saw Jack’s grin, he asked, “What the hell are you grinning at?”

“The sex.  That’s not something that will happen again, I don’t think.”

Daniel grinned devilishly.  “When’s your high school reunion?”

 

.*.*.*.*.

 

End