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Shades of Denial

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Daniel never used a condom, not even when he fucked Jack on base. Jack wasn't worried about disease, but there was the issue of... fluids.

Daniel's reasoning was that using a condom meant he had to retract his foreskin first, thereby bunching it up and restricting its natural movement along his dick as he stroked into Jack, and thus curtailing the quality of the sensation he received from the act.

Daniel explained it all in patient detail as Jack was bent forward over Daniel's desk in full uniform, his class A slacks puddled around his ankles. Daniel was bare-chested, and having dropped his dress pants, was standing behind Jack, fondling his bare ass. As he stroked himself to erection, Daniel described in the impassioned manner of many of his PowerPoint presentations, all the unwanted foreskin difficulties that using condoms created.

When Daniel was ready, he slicked his cock with the lube he now kept in his top right-hand drawer for their daily 'meetings'. He'd thought about requisitioning it from the Air Force, along with the other supplies for his department, but decided that was beyond the pale, even considering that his fucking Jack on base was now SOP.

He entered Jack quickly, not bothering to prep him. "Think you're still loose enough from last night, Jack? Ohhh,yeaaaaah... just right." He gripped Jack's naked hips, fucking him very, very slowly, more than a little aroused by the uniform in front of him and the fact that they both knew the leader of the free world was, even now, making his way down in the elevator for Jack's hand-off ceremony as the new leader of the SGC.

"I want to make sure the President knows I've been taking good care of you, Jack," Daniel grunted as he leaned over the other man's back, feeling the rough wool of the Class A jacket against his nipples as he forced himself in even more deeply. "Want to make sure he can smell me on you," he whispered filthily in Jack's ear.

Daniel straightened and picked up his pace. "I wouldn't want Hayes to think I'd been neglecting my duty pounding your ass in favor of trivial things like translations... and exploration... Come on, Jack, try and get with the program here, pay attention..."

"Not gonna come this time!" Jack said tightly.

"Sure y'are. And anyway, that's not really an option, is it?" Daniel smiled. "Gonna make you like being gay, remember, Jack? That's why we're here; you need to come each and every time I fuck you, so you learn to appreciate it..."

"For cryin' out loud, Daniel," Jack gasped, well on his way to an orgasm he didn't want and couldn't stop, "at least give me something to catch it in!"

"Nope, sorry, I'm real busy just now, Jack. Go ahead and catch it in your hand; just don't get any on my desk. Now let go and enjoy it, 'cause I'm not gonna let you go till you spill, so you might as well just. Let. It. Happen."

"Fuck you!" Jack snarled.

"No, no. Fucking you, Jack; fucking you so good..." Daniel shifted the angle of his hips, pulling almost all the way out and changing the angle of penetration. "Let's try a different trajectory, shall we, General...?"

Jack bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, but he stayed resolutely silent as Daniel started to punish his prostate. "Uh-uh-" Jack gasped as he shook his head adamantly back and forth.

"Oh, yes, Jack."

"No. Uh, uh-"

Daniel smiled again, knowing Jack was close, and continued to pound into him at that very same angle. "Oh, I do love a challenge, Jack... Oh, yeahhh... how... about... right... there...?"

Daniel had gotten very good at finding just the right angle so that, want to or not, Jack came explosively every time Daniel fucked him. Daniel was very serious about making sure Jack learned to get the most out of receiving penetrative sex.

And Jack was, god help him, loving every single minute of this perverted thing.

Fighting it up until the very end, Jack started to come into his left hand, his right arm keeping his forehead from being pummeled into hamburger on Daniel's desk blotter.

"Fuckinggod!" Jack cursed from between clenched teeth as his dick continued to pulse into his palm. He hoped to hell he was keeping the mess off his uniform pants, but as Daniel had just fucked him nearly blind, he figured he'd have to wait till all the sparkly shit left his eyes and then check it out for sure. Even breathing was optional at the moment.

"Yeaaaaah," Daniel ground out behind him, giving one last deep shove for good measure as he felt his balls empty. "That was a good one."

As soon as Daniel pulled out and Jack could see straight, he started looking for something to clean up with. Normally, he kept a wad of tissues in his BDUs for just such an emergency, but the lump looked funny in his uniform pocket and he hadn't really thought Daniel would do him today of all days...

Plan B. There were usually some paper napkins left over from lunch spread around Daniel's desk. Nowhere near ideal, the thin, rough, government issue paper usually tore and stuck to his hands and his dick in uncomfortable shreds as it dried on the come, but it was better than nothing.

But there were no napkins today; Daniel had cleaned his desk for some damned reason, and there was nothing handy for Jack to wipe his hand with. "What am I supposed to do with this?" Jack panted holding out his sticky hand.

Across the room, Daniel had finished pulling himself together and was straightening his tie, having cleaned off his dick and his hands with a wipe 'n dry he'd brought in for just this occasion. "Beats me, Jack," he said dismissively. "You can eat it, for all I care." He unlocked his office door and left, pulling it closed behind him.

Jack stood there for a moment, with his pants down and his wet dick in his come-covered hand, and thought he'd never been so completely humiliated in his life. His very next thought was accompanied by an ironic grunt and a shake of his head when he realized that wasn't precisely true; that moment was still ahead of him.

He wiped the worst of the mess off on one page of a report that didn't look too important and began to put himself back together. He glanced at his watch and knew his time was more than up; he should've met Hayes at the first checkpoint five minutes ago. So... no time for a quick shower, then, or even a visit to the men's room.

Ohsureyabetcha, Jack mused as he hurried down the corridor, his day was just about to get much, much worse. He paused to stick his left hand in a convenient water fountain and then shook it dry as he strode purposely toward the elevators. They opened just as he arrived, depositing a smiling Henry Hayes on Jack's doorstep. Jack saluted and then shook the hand of the President of the United States, offering him his one clean hand, just as Daniel's come soaked through his boxers and starting running down the backs of his thighs.


Jack knew Daniel was acting out, and he didn't really blame him; no one likes being made a fool of. Jack's scheme to get them together right under the IOC's nose had, like many plans do, seemed brilliant up through the point of actual execution. What was it Paul Wolfowicz had said in that press conference a couple of months back? "No plan survives first contact with reality." The man had it goin' on.

They had a routine of sorts. Every morning at precisely 10:30, Jack made his way to Daniel's office, locked the door, and began to take his clothes off; Daniel usually wanted him completely nude. He'd explained to Walter that he and Doctor Jackson would need to confer each morning that Daniel was on-planet, and to keep that thirty-minute block of time open. So far, there had been no emergencies which would've interfered with their daily assignation, although Jack knew eventually, there would be a conflict, and he dreaded what would happen when Daniel wasn't serviced on time.

Additionally, several times a week, Jack would get a call, sometimes in the middle of a briefing, and it would be Daniel. "I need to see you for a few minutes, Jack."

"I'm in the middle of a-"

"Now, Jack."

"I'll be right there." Jack would make his excuses to the nonplussed staff around the briefing table and hustle to Daniel's office, where he'd find him sitting at his desk with his pants open, a pillow on the floor next to him. Jack would get to his knees without needing to be told.

He let himself enjoy it, because it was all Daniel would let him have.

Jack hated being at Daniel's beck and call this way; it certainly wasn't what he'd had in mind when he'd come up with the plan in the first place. He'd thought he'd be able to reason with Daniel, to get him to see they could make the IOC's idiocy work in their favor and snub their noses at DA/DT at the same time. But Daniel was bitter and angry and refused to be swayed.

One evening a week or so after the Hayes thing, Daniel left work to go out for a drink, something they'd've done together once upon a time when they were friends, back before they'd started fucking. This time, Daniel made it clear he didn't want Jack's company. "I just need to get away for a little while. Clear my head."

When he let himself into Jack's house an hour later, Jack frowned. "Y'know, if you're gonna hook up with other people, I'd appreciate it if you'd use a condom from now on." Jack hoped he didn't sound like some jealous, whining harpy.

Daniel chuckled as he sank down heavily on Jack's couch, tossing his keys onto the coffee table. "I have no intention of hooking up with anyone; I'm not looking for any more complications in my life than I've already got. I've always been more or less into serial monogamy, so you can stop worrying about that."

"So we're exclusive?"

"Don't let it go to your head," Daniel snapped. "It's not you. I've just never been able to split my attention that way. No, you're servicing me adequately, Jack, I'm not looking to replace you. I think maybe we'll stick to blowjobs till I can get rid of this sling, though."

"Look, about shooting you last week..."

Daniel snorted. "If you're gonna tell me you didn't enjoy it on some level, forget it, I'm not buying. Now let's get to it, shall we? You're gonna have to work a little harder than usual tonight, I'm not really in the mood for this."

"Then let's just hang out for a while, watch the game, order a pizza. It'll be like old times." He smiled hopefully.

"No," Daniel said woodenly. "I've got to get home."

Jack sat down next to him on the couch and spoke softly, even though he knew the mikes would pick it up anyway. "Look, I don't understand why you don't just move in here. That way we could afford to let things go with the flow a little. Y'know, get in the mood, see where things go, maybe try some new stuff..."

Daniel looked at him hard. "I think I want you to suck me off in the nude tonight," he said tightly.

Recognizing a brick wall when he saw one, Jack sighed and reached for Daniel's shirt, but Daniel brushed his hand away. "No. With you in the nude, while I'm fully clothed. Just take my dick out, then strip."

"Could you be any colder about this?" Jack complained as he unzipped Daniel's pants.

"I don't know, Jack. Could I be? I've never owned my own hooker before; isn't this how whores are treated in the movies?"

"Is that all I am to you?"

"Isn't that what you wanted to be?" Daniel glared at him, then grunted, reaching for his dick with his good hand, fisting it roughly. "Fighting with you always makes me hard; how sick is that? Now get busy. I'm suddenly, inexplicably ready. Oh, and while you're down there, don't forget to suck on my balls some, too."


A few weeks after that, Daniel's arm was healed, and Jack was feeling bold. "So I'm your sub, is that it?"

"Is that what you think this is? Some kind of power game?"

"Seems like it," Jack sniped. "It's all about when you want it, where you want it, how you want it. I don't have a say in anything."

"I didn't start this, Jack, let's not forget the little detail of you whoring yourself to me."

"Does that mean it always has to be that way? You on top, taking me from behind? Can't we, y'know, make the best of it? Can't we do other things, like kissing and holding and y'know... other positions, other... stuff?"

"You want me to go down on you, I take it?"

"Well... yeah," Jack shrugged. "I wouldn't mind it."

"I'm afraid not," Daniel said, shaking his head and trying to remain calm in what was, for him, an intensely emotional issue. "Kissing and giving head and face to face is all rather personal stuff, Jack, like what two people do when they're in a mutually satisfying, loving relationship. That's not what this is."

"Can't it become that?" Jack insisted, somewhat desperately.

"Could've been. Once. But not anymore; you blew that chance, Jack, big time. I don't give my mouth to just anybody, and I don't play Dom/sub games either. If you're feeling dominated, that's your own issue. I'm just treating you like the property you are; the IOC gave you to me as compensation for losing Atlantis, remember? So you might as well stop trying to make this into something it can never be.

"Now strip down, and let's get this done. I've got a translation to get back to."


And so it went for almost two months. Always at Jack's house or on base in Daniel's office. Never in a bed since that first time. Never any foreplay, never any kissing, and never in Daniel's home. Just fucking.

Jack was miserable, but completely boxed in. He loved Daniel; that would never change, no matter how abusive and disrespectful the other man got. But Jack was starting to fucking hate him.

"You want it?" Daniel grunted, shoving hard into Jack's ass, making the table shift with every thrust.


"How bad do you want it?"

"Bad enough. Just do it."

"Want me to jerk you... like this?"

"Oh, god-" Daniel hadn't touched Jack's cock since that first night, and the feel of his hand on him now was making Jack dizzy. "God, yeaaaaah..."

"Beg me."


"Beg for my hand."


Daniel stopped thrusting, and he dropped the hard dick in his hand. It thwacked painfully against the edge of Jack's dining room table, making Jack gasp. "Ow! What the- don't stop!" Jack complained.

Daniel braced his hips against Jack's butt, his cock buried deep. "Do it, Jack. Beg." He leaned heavily on him, hands yanking back painfully on Jack's shoulders, pushing him into the edge of the table.

"Fuck you!"

"That's never gonna happen. Beg me, and do it now, or I walk."

Jack ground his teeth, trying to keep his hole from clenching around Daniel's dick and letting him know just how much Jack needed this. "Please don't stop," he said softly.

"Not good enough," Daniel grunted, moving slightly and causing his dick to painfully scrape against Jack's prostate.

"Oh, god!" Jack knew he was pushing back against Daniel, trying to jump-start the action, trying to impale himself more deeply, and he felt like a slut. "Please..." He realized that's what this thing had made him, no more or less than a body for hire. "Please fuck me," he panted, "bring me off."

"Not good enough. Not loud enough." Daniel circled his hips, tormenting the tiny gland inside Jack, inflaming him with need, making Jack impossibly harder. "Try again. Use your General's voice."

"You bastard," Jack muttered against the tabletop. "I want you to fuck me," Jack begged, his voice rising to fill the room, not quite a sob yet. "Please. I... need it. I need you."

Behind him, Daniel's expression was one of sadness and relief. He started rocking his hips, not thrusting, exactly, more like bumping Jack's prostate at very close range. "But you're a General in the United States Air Force, Jack," Daniel whispered behind him as he pumped. "This kind of aberrant behavior should be abhorrent to you. Nasty, filthy, against the law..."

"No," Jack choked.


"No. Not anymore. Not with you."

"So you like it? You're not ashamed for me to take you this way? You actually want me inside you?"

"God, yes, I want it!" Jack sputtered, desperate for release, turned on to the point of babbling. "I love feeling your dick inside me! Just DO it... PLEASE!"

Daniel let out a breath. "That's what I've been waiting for." He resumed thrusting, finding Jack's prostate every time he shoved home. Less than a full minute later, both men were coming amid deep growls of satisfaction.

"I think that should about do it," Daniel said as he pulled quickly out of Jack's body.

Jack winced, still leaning painfully on his forearms across his dining room table, breathing hard and wishing Daniel had taken his goddamn time about pulling out. That was gonna sting for days... "Huh?" he asked over his shoulder.

"You've arrived at the place where you want the sex now, so my work here is done," Daniel said from the kitchen. He cleaned up a little with a damp paper towel and walked back into the dining room, grabbing his jeans off the floor. "And I think I've finally just about fucked you out of my system, so I'll be seein' ya." He grabbed his shirt and shrugged into it on his way to the front door.

Jack stood up straight and turned to face Daniel, his dick hanging limp and his pants around his ankles. "You can't do this-"

"You're so wrong, Jack." He shoved his feet into his shoes as he reached for his keys on the side table in Jack's hallway. "I can do anything I want, remember?"

"So what was all this? Revenge?"

"Yeah, pretty much. You feeling used?"

Jack's face was hard, his lips a tight, thin line. "You could say that."


"You were just using me to get off?"

Daniel snorted and set his jaw. "Nothing that mundane, I assure you. I was using you to screw over the IOC, Jack. What'd you think it was? Did you think I felt something for you? I did once, y'know; I loved you more than my own life-" Daniel's voice broke, but he pushed on, determined to finish what he'd started. "But you betrayed that; killed it dead. All I've been doing these last two months is burying it, little by little, using my dick up your ass. And now I'm done." He passed a hand between them. "We're done."

And then he walked out.


After that, they worked together, but that was all. Since Jack never went out in the field anymore, their interaction was limited to pre- and post-mission briefings. The pizza and movie dates had stopped the night Daniel had found out about the deception. When the friendship stopped, all the friendship things stopped as well. At that point, all they had together was the fucking. And now that was gone, too.

Jack still thought about it sometimes, mostly at night, how it all went wrong. It'd seemed like a foolproof plan. What he hadn't counted on was that Daniel was a stubborn man, and never more so than when he was wounded. Jack knew he'd hurt him, but he'd thought he could make it up to him somehow, turn it around. He'd wanted them to make a life together.

But Daniel had only been waiting for Jack to admit that he wanted it, that he liked being fucked, and the moment he had, Daniel had walked out and never looked back.

Jack had never bottomed before that first night.


And then things really went squirrel-ly. Daniel was missing on some godforsaken planet, prisoner of a religious zealot bent on self-destruction, and Jack was out of his mind.

"We're continuing to monitor countless radio signals coming from the planet," Carter said in that way she had that set Jack's teeth on edge. Like it was all about some barely interesting phenomenon she was going to be the first to figure out, and not a friend gone missing, whose life might be hanging in the balance because she was wasting time geeking-out. "One of them could be from Daniel. If we can find a way to contact him-"

"Find it!"

She had, and they'd brought Daniel home. The homecoming celebration was held at Jack's house, because that was what was expected. Carter and Teal'c came; Janet would've been there too, if that had gone down differently. Hammond would've come along as well, as he'd always been an honorary member of SG-1.

Jack wondered if 'pressing Homeworld Security business' was really the reason Hammond declined this time, or if it was simply that he knew -thanks to the IOC- that it'd be uncomfortable to be around Jack and Daniel, now that they'd completely and literally fucked away their friendship. All that warm, comfortable banter between them, gone.

Daniel was gone, too. Oh, they'd gotten the body back, but the man inside had been changed forever. He had a hard edge now, and Jack knew he was responsible for a lot of that; the spitefulness, all the pent-up anger. And it was all compounded by whatever had happened to him on that planet.

The others had left as soon as it was polite to do so, and it was just the two of them now. Jack didn't think Carter and T knew about him and Daniel, but even if they didn't, the awkwardness was right there and palpable, and it'd made a mockery of what they'd all been to each other, once upon a time. A team. A family. Jack knew he'd killed it as surely as if he'd leveled his P-90 at them.

"What really happened on Caledonia?" he asked softly.

Daniel had his coat on - one Jack had never seen before- and his hand was on the doorknob to leave.

"Are you asking me if I slept with her? You have my report."

"Which seemed... sanitized."

"Like you taught me."

"So. Did you?"

Daniel frowned. "And just how is that any of your business, General?"

Jack shrugged nervously. Damn Daniel for making him say it out loud. "Thought you might want... need some... y'know, recreation."

"Recreation?" Daniel spat out the word like it tasted of week-old road-kill.

"What the fuck am I supposed to call it?" Jack snapped.

"Just say it like it is, Jack. Offer me your ass. Loud and proud, so all the mikes will pick it up."

"Shut up," Jack hissed.

"Fuck you," Daniel spat back. "And don't ever mention it again."


They never did, and life went on. By the time they were standing shoulder to shoulder at Rya'c's wedding, they were practically civil to one another again. Jack could do denial, too.

Gradually, things seemed to get back to almost normal between them; a bit of easy banter here, a non-hostile smile there. But sometimes, Jack would turn to look at the other man and just for a fleeting second, he'd think he saw something, a wistful or sad thing in Daniel's eyes. But then, just as quickly, it'd be gone again, and Jack would be alone with his memories and his guilt. He'd make himself go on, but he didn't really know why the hell he was bothering.

After two months of daily, ball-wrenching sex, his hole slack and ready for Daniel at all times, the sudden cessation of all that activity was oddly disconcerting. Jack found he missed having sex with Daniel -he'd never think of it as making love, because it hadn't ever been that- but having a partner, even an angry, demanding one, had been better than jerking off alone in his shower. And he missed Daniel's dick, missed being filled so intimately. He tried hard not to think of what they could've had together, if he hadn't fucked everything up so badly.

Sometimes, Jack would close his eyes and imagine that Daniel was in the shower with him, touching him with large, strong hands, kissing him, loving him; letting Jack love him back. For all their fucking, Daniel had never let Jack top once, and had only allowed Jack to blow him a handful of times. After a few minutes of replaying the feel of Daniel's lips against his, the one and only time they'd ever kissed, Jack came to the touch of his own hand, but the word he'd sobbed as he came sounded an awful lot like Daniel's name.


Another month under his belt as head cheese of the SGC, and Jack was really hitting his stride. Daniel still spent every minute of his spare time determinedly combing Ancient writings, looking for any mention of ZPMs, and Jack continued to pretend that they were still friends. He no longer held any hope they'd ever get together romantically, except alone in his own bed in the dark, when reason would leave him. He'd gotten very good at compartmentalizing.

Daniel's recently acquired hard edge had also come in handy. Jack let him handle the interrogation of the Area 51 scientist who'd sabotaged Osiris' wrist device. He watched the whole thing remotely, both admiring Daniel's style and mourning the regrettable changes in his friend's gentle demeanor as displayed on the screen in front of him. Jack supposed he was responsible for most of it.

Daniel felt Jack staring at him as he got ready for the mission. "What?" he asked, zipping up the black vest.

Jack stood in the control room with his hands in his pockets, watching Siler fiddle with stuff off to one side. He shrugged. "I was just thinkin'. Eight years ago, you never would've been able to handle an interrogation like that."

Daniel grunted in acknowledgement. "I've been through a lot of changes in the last eight years," he observed quietly. "You've changed, too."

"Yeah." There was a long moment with painful eye contact that Jack thought might blossom into more, into talking maybe, about how they'd changed each other, or at least some hint of the friendly affection they used to have for one another, but Daniel shut it down quickly as he began to strap the sidearm to his right thigh.

"All right," Jack said, playing The General, the only part Daniel allowed him to play. "Tell me again why I should agree to this?"

And Daniel explained it, using lots of reasonable words, and Jack had heard the truth in between the sounds of them; 'because Sam's in trouble, and I feel guilty as hell for giving the bad guys the translation, that's why'.

So, Jack let him go, and then he waited.

From the deck of the Prometheus, Pendergast called in less than a minute after Daniel had beamed himself up onto Osiris's ship, reporting that he'd accomplished the first part of the insane plan because the cloak was indeed down.

Jack had felt calm and had replied, "Understood." And he did. The gate was gone, Carter was gone, and tens of millions of Jaffa were in imminent danger from symbiote poison. And Daniel blamed himself for all of it.

"General O'Neill, we have a problem," Pendergast's voice cut through the half-second delay. "The ship's cloak is down, sir, but Doctor Jackson has yet to confirm whether he has disabled the hyperdrive or not.

"Just give him a little more time," Jack said in his reasonable General-voice. He's not a soldier, he's not really trained for this, and he's doing the best he fucking can.

"Sir, right now, they're sitting ducks. If they spot us, they can run, and we won't be able to catch them. We can't afford to let them get away, General. I recommend we open fire immediately..."

Gone. It was going to be all gone. Jack couldn't help but think he'd set Daniel on this self-destruct course with his stupid plan.

"General, please advise..."

Jack understood. He was The Man, after all, and that's what they paid him for, to issue the order to fire. He had a sudden, ugly flashback to the Enkaran ship and a nearly identical situation four years previously.

"General O'Neill, they're powering up their hyperdrive... we are out of options."

"Can you disable the ship without destroying it?" Jack asked, knowing the answer already, because he was The General, and that was something else they paid him for.

"I cannot give you any guarantees."

Jack understood. Oh, god, how he understood... And now he waited to hear the worst. He wished he remembered how to pray.

Long, silent moments while the control room people continued to control things and the world continued to turn, and life went on everywhere except for right in the two-foot square piece of earth Jack O'Neill now occupied while he waited to hear Pendergast's regretful tones... I'm sorry, General, but-

"General O'Neill, it looks like you were right!" Pendergast reported. "We have the gate and SG-1 aboard; they're all alive!"

Jack closed his eyes against the sudden sharp flare he hadn't felt there in too many years, and hoped he had a few more syllables of General-voice left. "That's good news. Bring 'em home."

Then Jack left the control room people to their routine and went to his office to try to remember about that praying thing, not caring that the cameras would catch him weeping behind his hands.


The bad news, and isn't there always bad news? Was that the Trust now had a fully functional Al'kesh and enough symbiote poison to wipe out half a dozen Goa'uld worlds.

"In retrospect," Daniel said carefully as he met Jack's eyes in the safety of the crowded gate room, "maybe you should've destroyed the ship when you had the chance."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he considered the other man, and all the things he wanted to say to him right now. I love you, asshole, and I'm sorry I fucked us up.

Daniel might just as well've suggested Jack cut out his own heart. "Yeah. Tough choice."