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Jack could tell the moment when it all went wrong.
One minute it was all hot coffee-laced laced breath, lemon-pepper passion and yes, God please Yes!
In the next, Daniel was carefully pulling away, pulling inward and pulling back. Walls were going up as he watched, blue eyes shutting down. It hurt more than he’d expected, though probably not as much as he’d deserved, in retrospect.
"And you and Sam? Zartac, ‘more than you should’, ringing any bells?" Daniel's face was a study in stoicism, eyes betraying nothing but the faint expectation of disappointment. “Puppy dog eyes in the briefing room, unrequited crap in the locker room, all that?”
"I'll break it off. Don't worry about her -" Jack leaned in, intent only on the feel of that stubborn mouth under his again.
Daniel's hand landed on Jack's chest and before he realized it, he was being straight-armed away with embarrassing ease. Hard blue eyes bored into his and Daniel smiled wryly as if he’d known all along. Of course he knew. Of course he cared. Jack had made a serious assessment error and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to take it back now.
"After, then. We’ll talk after." Daniel’s voice was cool and precise.
Jack didn't even pretend to misunderstand. "After I talk to her, you mean.” Yeah, he was so looking forward to that. “Ultimatums, Daniel?"
"I prefer the term 'understanding', but if necessary, then yes." God, Daniel could be such a bastard.
"I thought we were good…Why?" It sounded plaintive, even to his own ears. Why was he doing this, why couldn’t he just go with the flow, why did he always have to question every fucking thing Jack said?
Just like that Daniel was in his face, hands fisted against the wall, bracketing the older man in a move straight out of the O’Neill school of intimidation, his voice level and biting. "Trust me when I say that we don’t have time for this. When I commit to this, to you, you’d better pay attention. Because when I finally lay you out on that criminally over-priced bed of yours, and slide my cock into that ridiculously uptight Airforce ass of yours, Jack, I want you to know who the fuck you're with."
A tiny smile flickered and died on Daniel’s lips. Oh shit. He knew that smile. It was a little private ‘fuck you’.
A self-mocking taste of ‘see Jack – you’re not the only one who can be a dick’ in miniature. Fuck.
And Jesus Christ!
Daniel wanted his ass? Not something to which he’d given much thought. Correction; Any thought. The implications were…
Jesus Christ.
Jack's mouth opened once, then again silently.
With whom I’m fucking, Daniel. Unhelpful at best, likely to get him belted one at worst.
He considered that tidbit for a moment, discarded various tactical deflections about the worthiness of his bed and how the current situation would seem to contradict his alleged uptightness, and blinked rapidly. "I know who I want to be with, -"
Daniel eased out of his space and laughed - the sonofabitch laughed at him!
"You so don't, Jack, and that's the problem, right there. I'm not your goddamned second-string. I'm not the fallback, here. It's about time you figured it out… I'm exhausted from leading you by the hand."
"Do TOO and excuse me? Full grown man here, Daniel! Colonel, Daniel!" When had he lost control? When for that matter, had he started yelling?
Pushing back was a reflex, but Daniel didn't rise to the bait, just grabbed his keys from the counter and began pulling on his coat calmly. He might as well be talking to the wall for all the notice his bluster got him this time, and when had this man ever given a damn about his rank, anyway? Okay…okay, it was time to be reasonable. Switch things up, before he messed things up even more spectacularly. Find out where all these allegations were coming from and nip them right in the bud.
Time to turn on the charm.
Hands raised in a conciliatory gesture, Jack continued in a wisely milder tone.
"Hey… listen - I thought -"
"I know what you thought, Jack. You were wrong. You’ve pushed me far enough. I'm tired of being on the bottom. Call me when you get your head together.” Small words, small sentences, syllables dropped like stones from that educated mouth, as if Daniel couldn’t be bothered to explain himself. As if Jack was too fucking stupid to understand anything else. Daniel’s patience wasn’t endless after all.
We haven’t even done anything – you’ve never even been on the bottom-
He swallowed the words before they could make it out, wincing in sudden clarity, because he got it. This was about him, not Daniel. It was him who’d put Daniel on the bottom and kept him there all these years, so certain of himself that he hadn’t even bothered to reassess, hadn’t taken a single moment to consider all the ways he used Daniel to achieve their objectives while systematically deconstructing the passionate negotiator he’d known years ago. How long had it been since he’d taken Daniel’s expert opinion in the field without looking to Carter first? How long since he’d invited the man into his home without some ulterior motive? Hollow dread filled Jack as he realized that he couldn’t even remember the last time Daniel had shown up at his door just because.
Then he swallowed tightly; suddenly he did remember. He remembered that time, and every other time he’d let his mouth go on autopilot, willfully ignorant but never unaware of the effect it had on those closest to him. He remembered every time he’d let his inner bastard out to play, and he remembered who always paid for it.
He saw Daniel’s eyes narrow slightly, a miniscule nod of satisfaction as all the anger ran out of Jack, leaving him cold and tired. Of course Daniel would choose this moment to clue Jack in – it had a certain symmetry that Jack couldn’t ignore - and he was obviously done negotiating, on a wide range of subjects.
Ah crap.
Some master tactician he was; he’d ignored every signal and sign he’d been given until now, and now…now Daniel had to spell it out for him because he couldn’t get over himself enough to drop the stupid act.
He’d bought into his own con. What’s worse, he’d sold it to Carter in the bargain, talking her up while putting Daniel down. And down. And down, letting their friendship dwindle away only to call him over to offer him some kind of half-assed seduction attempt with Carter in the wings.
Oh God.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Heat flooded Jack’s face, scalding the back of his neck and he forced himself not to look away, to face the music, bite the bullet and all the other euphemisms that didn’t mean shit when it felt as if your chest, your fucking heart was being squeezed in a vise.
Oh Daniel.
He hadn’t blushed in years, and considering some of the things he’d done recently, how stupid was that for you? He didn’t have the right to punish Daniel for this – didn’t even have the right to punish himself, seeing as that always seemed to come right back around to bite Daniel in the ass. Everything he could think to say seemed…no, was inadequate. Everything he had done was inadequate.
God, Daniel, don’t hate me.
He stared, knowing Daniel could read him like nobody else, hoping Daniel hadn’t stopped seeing him the way he’d obviously stopping seeing Daniel.
There was a particular fondness to Daniel’s expression that Jack knew no one else ever received but himself, but those eyes. He couldn’t look away, could barely breathe for the electric fury in that gaze. Daniel was pissed at him and it was mortifying.
“You’re so much better than this, Jack.” The muted sadness in Daniel’s tone was suffocating. He couldn’t wrap his mind around that trust anymore, couldn’t conceive of what he’d almost managed to drive away.
He deserves so much better.
Jack closed his eyes in resignation.
And then the door was closing, and Daniel was driving away, and for the life of him, Jack couldn't figure out why he was still pressed up against the wall with his heart in his mouth and the mother of all boners tenting the front of his jeans. He looked down with a weary frown. “Give it up buddy – we blew it.”
Wait.
He rewound the conversation cautiously; not sparing himself one word of Daniel’s scathing commentary.
Then he understood that he was being given one more chance, and the knowledge shook him and he thought he’d be sick from sheer relief.
It had all gone wrong, but Daniel had still walked him to the answer once more for old time’s sake. Left him alone again, trusting him to make the right decision, as the man had done so many times before.
Jack saw now how he'd repeatedly failed to prove that trust valid.
He swallowed, wanting a beer more than anything, but knew that he needed to be clear, to handle this business. The nausea began to fade as he realized that he could do this – make amends; make it right. Jack went to the phone and began to dial.
It was past time for a change. He was done being a disappointment.