Jack was sick of playing twenty questions with Daniel. Partly because Daniel always asked the same questions, methodically narrowing down the possibilities in a way that pretty much guaranteed winning, but also sucked all the fun out of the game.
They had discussed, in depth, which of Fraiser's nurses they would sleep with, given a choice. Jack thought that conversation was actually pretty funny, since Daniel could've had any one of them. They had speculated as to how many facial expressions Teal'c actually had in his repertoire, and which one he used most often. They had chosen which of Sam's myriad hairstyles they liked best. They had even played catch with some of the food. Jack had tried to teach Daniel to juggle. Daniel wasn't interested. He said if he ever reached that threshold of boredom, he wanted Jack to smother him in his sleep.
Jack wondered if it was possible to create a chess set out of their food. Or maybe playing cards. Maybe if he used the pieces of bread. He could carve them if he broke one of the arms off Daniel's glasses. He imagined the look on Daniel's face when he caught Jack carving hearts and diamonds into chunks of bread with the broken remains of his glasses.
Maybe not.
They'd decided that the lights came once a day. This was arbitrary, based only on when they felt hungry and tired. The lights seemed to come at the end of each day, just before it was time to sleep, which was convenient, in a way. Made falling asleep easier. Going by this system, they had been in the cell for five days.
Jack thought it felt longer. Daniel, who had argued with him on every possible point during their confinement, just to have something to do, would probably agree with him on that one.
The effects of the lights hadn't changed. Daniel speculated that it was actually the sounds that affected them, because even if they closed their eyes, the need didn't stop. Jack didn't really care what, exactly, was making them do what they did. It was enough that they had no choice. The particulars didn't matter--coercion was coercion, however you looked at it.
Jack was emphatically Not Happy about the situation. Being fed and watered, okay. Not being tortured or interrogated, even better. But losing all vestiges of self control on a daily basis wasn't his idea of a good time. Daniel maintained that it was a lab experiment, simply stimuli and response. Jack thought someone was watching them and laughing their asses off.
They meant to take turns when the lights came on. It was bad enough jerking off in the same room; there was no way they were going to do it at the same time, where they could see each other. They didn't discuss it, but taking turns was clearly the plan.
That plan lasted exactly one day.
On the fourth day, Daniel went first. Jack conceded that it was fair, since he had gone first the day before. He could wait an extra two or three minutes. But then Daniel started making those sounds again, and Jack had two choices. Do it against the wall, or stood next to Daniel, aim for the toilet, and not have a mess afterwards. It was a surprisingly easy decision.
Besides, being right up close to the source of those amazing sounds wasn't exactly a down side.
So he elbowed Daniel to one side and got right in there next to him. Daniel, barely pausing in his frantic rhythm, tossed him a confused look. "Couldn't wait," Jack said, already clawing at his belt. And Daniel shrugged and closed his eyes again, and went right on with the moaning and gasping and all that other crap which had caused Jack's problem in the first place.
They still hadn't discussed it, but Jack assumed it would be the same way tonight. The lights would come on and they'd both go at the same time. No eye contact, no touching, he reminded himself. They were barely even aware of each other, too deep in their own needs. It wasn't like he was participating in a sexual act with Daniel--just next to him.
Jack had decided that made it okay.
Daniel, who always seemed to want to talk everything to death, had shown no indications that he wanted to discuss their mutual jerking off sessions. Jack wasn't sure if this was because Daniel himself was embarrassed, or if it was because he thought Jack was. Didn't matter. He wasn't all that embarrassed anymore, but he certainly didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Crap," Daniel muttered suddenly, and Jack stopped throwing a piece of fruit in the air and catching it to look at him.
"Problem?"
Daniel sighed and tossed Jack a glance over his shoulder. He'd been examining the walls again. "I really wish I had something to write with."
"Mmm," Jack said. "I wish I had a Nintendo."
Daniel turned back to the wall, but not before Jack saw his smile. "Coffee," Daniel said. "I really miss coffee."
"Television. Donuts. Or, here's one for you, an actual bed to sleep in."
Daniel actually moaned, and the sound caught at Jack in a way that he tried very hard not to think about. "God, yes," Daniel murmured. "My five hundred thread count sheets."
"Chocolate."
Blinking at Jack, Daniel tilted his head to one side. "I didn't know you liked chocolate."
Jack shrugged and spread his hands. "Hey, who doesn't like chocolate?" And he did like it, but he was actually thinking of Daniel when he said it.
"Sam," Daniel said quietly. "Teal'c. Janet. Hammond."
Jack nodded. "Yeah," he replied, just as quietly. Then he grinned, went to Daniel and threw an arm around his shoulders, and said, "But mostly, the Nintendo."
Daniel laughed, and he felt solid and heavy and warm against Jack's side, his face so much younger when he laughed. Jack was leaning close enough to him to realize that laundry was going to be necessary very soon, and a bath wouldn't be a bad idea for either of them, and despite all that, he had no urge to pull away. Just the opposite, in fact. There was something fascinating about the way Daniel's shoulders were actually broader than his, the way their heights were almost equal and the fluid slide of muscles in Daniel's arm against him.
Then the lights started. Daniel jumped a little, blinking at the sudden flashing colors. The skin at the back of Jack's neck prickled at the clicking sound, which now made him think of mice. Lots and lots of little mice. With tap shoes. Lights, camera, action, he thought crazily, and hoped like hell that they weren't being recorded by some alien camera crew. That was blackmail material he didn't need to deal with.
Jack pulled his arm off Daniel's shoulders and turned toward the facilities. Daniel started to follow, and then hung back uncertainly. Jack turned to see what the holdup was, not even pausing to ask himself why he wanted to wait for Daniel.
Daniel was frowning, the flush already rising from his collar, his hands plucking fretfully at his jacket. Technically, it was Jack's turn to go first. But Jack jerked his head in a 'come on' motion, offered a quick, strained smile, and Daniel didn't wait to be asked twice. He didn't think he could wait.
Jack was aware that Daniel was making a frantic, low pitched whining as he struggled with his belt buckle. It seemed to be uncooperative this time, and for a moment, Jack actually entertained the insane notion of reaching over and helping. But then Daniel got it and Jack applied himself to the task at hand.
Daniel was making noise again, and Jack decided that restraint was bad for the blood pressure, and allowed a low groan to escape. He glanced over to see if Daniel noticed, and Daniel was looking at him.
Around them, all the colors flashed at once, a single time. There was a moment, when all the lights were out, of perfect darkness. Then the colors were back, running in their normal pattern, and Jack and Daniel were still staring at each other.
It occurred to Jack that his hand had not stopped moving, that he was jerking off while looking at Daniel, and that this should probably bother him. Some warning bells should be going off, telling him this was wrong. But then, doing it while Daniel stood ten feet away with his back turned had been wrong as well. Listening to Daniel do it--wrong. Being turned on by the noises Daniel made...
Jack was sensing a theme here.
So doing it while locked onto Daniel's eyes was wrong, very wrong, a serious case of crossing the line, but that line had been crossed so much in the last few days that Jack was having trouble finding it.
And besides, Daniel wasn't stopping either. Daniel was staring at him, his eyes darting over Jack's face, touching on his lips, his throat, seeming to trace over him with enough force to create actual tactile sensation. And Daniel had not once stopped what he was doing. He was, in fact, speeding up.
Jack wasn't above a little competition. He liked competition. He was good at it. He liked to hit the gas hard when the light turned green and shoot ahead of whoever was in the next lane. He kept close track of his team's records at the shooting range and physical trials. He encouraged, badgered, and pestered them to be the best. He could live with losing the race, but the idea of not even running the race was anathema.
Jack decided he needed an extra edge. Daniel was younger, after all. So Jack looked down and watched Daniel's hand slide up and down his cock. Daniel twisted a little on the upstroke, Jack noticed. He pressed his thumb into the head, the same way Jack did, and he jerked his hips forward as his hand moved back down to the base. Jack opened his mouth slightly, licked dry lips, and then shivered all over when Daniel did the same.
Watching Daniel was working for Jack, working in a big way, and he was getting very close, very fast. His legs were shaking, his knees feeling like old clay, numb and ready to crumble. He could feel sweat slipping down his back, his skin cold and hot at the same time, his fingertips tingling slightly as he bordered on hyperventilation. He wasn't quiet anymore. He was starting to rival Daniel for noise as well as speed, and why shouldn't he? Competition, Jack told himself. That's all.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack was aware that he was looking at another man's dick, that he was watching that man jerk off, that he was now timing his thrusts into his own palm to match what that man was doing, and most of all, that man was Daniel. He was so far over the line that the line was now a faint speck in the distance behind him.
But then Jack came and he couldn't care less about the line. He could hear his own voice, groaning, "Oh shit oh shit ohmygod yessss..."
Making noise was definitely better.
And it certainly seemed to work for Daniel, who had begun to make the high pitched "ah ah ah ah" sounds that came just before his voice dropped low and he finished. "Oh, god," Daniel gasped, and before Jack was quite finished coming, he was joining in, making a mess as usual. Daniel's aim wasn't so good, but Jack gave him full points for distance and quantity.
That was when the blood returned to Jack's brain and he realized that he was looking at Daniel's semen, Daniel's, oozing down the wall. He did a perfunctory cleanup and turned away abruptly, going to the far side of the room, futzing with the food, counting it, ignoring the little contented moany noises Daniel made right after he got off.
Crap, Jack thought. Crap crap crap. This wasn't good. He needed to find the line again, and get on the right side of it. This thing that was happening with Daniel was clearly a slippery slope, and he had the uneasy feeling that he was already too far gone to claw his way back to solid ground.
"Did you notice that?" Daniel asked, as if they were passing the time of day and nothing untoward had just happened.
Jack liked to think that he had a quick reply to any situation, a glib remark always at the ready, but his mouth was failing him. Jack had noticed quite a few things recently, and he didn't want to talk about any of them. He shook his head at Daniel, in denial of the whole conversation. Whatever Daniel was asking, the answer was no.
Daniel didn't do the easy, cooperative thing and drop it. Of course he didn't. When did he ever?
"The lights all went at once when we looked at each other," Daniel continued, deliberately ignoring Jack's scowl.
"Huh," Jack grunted. He began restacking their bread slices, carefully lining up the edges and putting the stack in the exact center of the plate.
Daniel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which was getting rather lank and greasy. He wished for a shower, and clean clothes, and to not have this conversation with Jack. "I knew you're not comfortable with this..."
"This? This is great. Why wouldn't I be comfortable?"
Daniel stared at him for a moment. He understood Jack's sarcasm for what it was, but that didn't keep it from driving him nuts on a regular basis. "We have to explore this development," he argued doggedly. "This is the first time anything we did caused a change in our environment. If we follow the laboratory experiment hypothesis to its logical conclusion, it only makes sense that they'd try to direct our behavior. Stimulus, response, reward. The lights flashing that way could be an indicator that we did something right."
Jack darted Daniel a look from the corner of his eye. "I'm sure this is all fascinating for you," he growled.
"I don't like it any more than you do--"
"Really?" Jack interrupted. "Because you don't actually seemed all that concerned. No matter how much you dress it up, we're being forced into this against our will. Now, I don't knew what the scientific name is for that, but where I'm from, we call it rape."
Daniel blinked at him, his mouth open, startled that Jack had come right out and said it. Jack stared right back at him, his eyes flashing, his mouth in a hard line. Daniel shook his head, took a step back, and lifted his hands slightly. Dropped them. He knew Jack was embarrassed, irritated, but he had no idea that Jack felt... forced.
"It's not like that," Daniel finally said.
"Isn't it?"
And Daniel had no answer for that.
Jack pushed his hands out, like he was ridding himself of the whole concept, and turned away. He stalked over to the sink and took his jacket off, then his tee shirt. He soaked them and began to scrub the soap into the fabric, getting soapy water all over himself as well as his clothes. "I need a wash," he said shortly, as if Daniel had asked what he was doing. "And so do you."
"Right," Daniel said faintly. "I'll wait till you're done."
Jack gave him a level look, nodded once, and turned back to his washing. Daniel stared at the back of his head and thought, that went well.