Rating: NC-17 for m/m sex
Pairing: Jack/Paul Davis 
Category: First time
Archive: Area52, majordavis.com. Anyplace else that wants it, please ask first! 
Date: October 15, 2003 
Series: Not yet
Website: When it's up it will be at 
http://www.geocities.com/starblade10 

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Stargate: SG-1 belong to  MGM and lots of other people. I make no claim of ownership and I make  no money from this. 

Notes: I would love feedback. Thanks to my betas, Carol and Lek, or all their hard work. All mistakes are my own, however. 

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Paul thinks he's got Daniel figured out...and things go downhill from there.

"You have got to try this coffee, Paul, it's the second most expensive kind they make," 
Daniel said as he fiddled with his keys, trying to find the one that would unlock his 
apartment door and lead them to the coffee.

Paul grinned. "As long as it's not the kind that's excreted from an animal?"

Daniel sighed, finally finding the key. "Coffee gets no respect."

It had been an interesting evening. Had it been only that morning Paul had reported to the SGC for his annual budget meeting? Daniel had been happy to see him, since they hadn't spoken since Daniel had returned from his, ah, death, and had invited Paul out to dinner.

He and Daniel had started up a fledging friendship just before his death, but he hadn't 
expected the other man to take the initiative in rekindling it, especially with his fractured 
memories. Of course, Daniel was also unaware of Paul's attraction for him; Paul had been 
very careful to keep his inappropriate feelings separate from their interactions.

But now he was beginning to wonder. He could swear that Daniel was actually flirting 
with him, gently teasing him during dinner. And then to invite Paul up to his new 
apartment for coffee…

His stomach tied up with knots of indecision, he followed Daniel into the apartment.

"Sorry about the mess, I've only moved in here about a month ago." Daniel dropped his 
jacket on the couch, next to a pile of boxes. Paul followed suit.

The apartment looked half-lived in. Large packing boxes lurked in several corners, some 
opened with various books, clothes, wooden or clay sculptures, and a few picture frames 
pulled out of them. Fortunately most of the appliances seemed in place, as were a couch 
and television set. 

Daniel showed him into the kitchen, which seemed normal. "This place is a bit bigger 
than my old one, apparently. And I still have no room for anything!" He laughed as he 
opened up a cabinet, pulling out two mugs and then the pieces of a coffee maker. 

Paul laughed with him, leaning against the counter and just watching Daniel as he 
worked.

Daniel pulled the package of Blue Mountain coffee out of the freezer and sliced it open 
with a flourish. 

"Here, smell this!" Daniel held out the package and Paul leaned forward to take a whiff. 
He closed his eyes to savor the rich scent, letting it wash over him. God, that was good.

Paul looked up at Daniel, realizing just how close they were standing. Daniel was smiling 
at him. His groin tightened at that look, arousal slowly burning in his belly. "It's 
wonderful," he admitted, maintaining eye contact. God, Daniel looked so damn good, his 
cheeks slightly flushed, that smile lighting up his face. Paul swallowed hard.

"Just wait until I actually brew it." Daniel pulled the package away, setting it on the 
counter. He began to ready the coffee maker. 

Paul tried to avert his eyes from the view, but then again, he really didn't want to look 
away. Watching Daniel's ass was a pleasure he had been denied for a year, so he was 
going to fully appreciate it now. "So," he began, trying to start up some kind of sensible 
conversation. "What do you remember?"

Daniel shrugged, as he moved to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of cold water. "I think 
my memory is about 90% back. I still can't remember anything that happened during the 
time I was, uh, Ascended. And occasionally, I'll find a journal entry or bit of notes that I 
don't remember writing. Other than that, I've been pretty good." He finished pouring the 
water into the coffee maker and snapped on the button as he turned around. Daniel looked up at him through his glasses, and Paul could swear the man was fluttering his eyelashes.

"Do you remember when we went to Russia together?" he asked, just trying to feel the 
other man out. 

To his surprise, Daniel laughed. "I remember Russia. That was a supremely bad idea, 
sending us both there together."

Paul couldn't help smiling; it was great to see Daniel happy. "Why was that?"

The other man gestured, pointing to himself and Paul as he spoke. "Well, you have to 
admit, Paul, we're both pretty passionate."

"Passionate? I've never heard myself described like that. Diplomatic. Yes. Passionate, 
no." Although Paul could show Daniel just how passionate he could be. 

"You know what I mean." Daniel tilted his head to the side.

Daniel had to be flirting with him, Paul reasoned. He couldn't explain it otherwise, the 
looks, the fluttering eyelashes, the gentle teasing conversation. Paul stepped forward, 
crowding Daniel back against the counter. The coffee maker was doing its job and a rich 
scent filled the air. 

"Paul?" 

"Shh…" Paul murmured, putting on hand on Daniel's shoulder, drawing him in close 
enough to gently press his lips against Daniel's. He tasted wine and sauce from their 
dinner, with a hint of peppermint and the utter softness that was Daniel. 

"Um," Daniel stepped back, raising his hand between them. "Wow. Paul. I'm sorry…"

"Daniel?"

Daniel ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I'm flattered, really…"

This didn't sound good.

"…but I'm straight." Daniel continued.

Paul looked at him sideways. "What? Are you sure?" He flushed under Daniel's sudden 
half grin. Of course he was sure. "Oh my god, I am so sorry." He turned around and fled 
from the kitchen and into the living room.

"Paul wait, I mean, it's ok."

"Daniel, it's not okay. I just completely misread your signals tonight…" Paul gestured, 
halting his motion to grab his jacket from the couch.

"Wait a minute. My signals?"

"You invite me out to dinner, just me, no other SGC personnel."

"Well, I was dead for a year, I thought it would nice to catch up…"

"And then you invite me up to your apartment for coffee."

"It's good coffee," Daniel said. 

Paul sighed. "Like I said, I totally misread you. I saw what I wanted to see." He finally 
grabbed his jacket. "I could even have sworn you were flirting with me."

"What is it about me?" he asked, sounding curious. "I mean, you're the second guy this 
week who's tried to come on to me…"

Paul grinned at him. "You're extremely attractive, Daniel."

"Yeah," he agreed, looking down at the floor and then back up at Paul, his eyes squinting. 

"But what is it about me that makes me irresistible to bisexual men?"

"Gay, Daniel." Paul crossed his arms, tucking his jacket under one of them. "I'm gay."

Daniel closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, I know what a big risk you took tonight."

"I'm an idiot," Paul said, moving towards the door. "I'm very sorry, Dr. Jackson."

"No, Paul, don't do that." Daniel stepped between him and the door. "This doesn't change 
anything. I'm still your friend. I won't tell anyone, I know how these things work."

"Thank you." Paul meant that. Daniel didn't have to keep this secret; he could even have 
drawn Paul up on charges of sexual harassment. But of course, Daniel Jackson was a 
bigger man than that. 

"Don't leave. We could still have that coffee and I'll drive you back to your hotel. Or the 
base if you need to get back there…"

Paul shook his head. "I just need to clear my head, Daniel. Then I'll take a cab back to the hotel. I'm just really embarrassed…"

Daniel nodded and stepped away from the door. "You don't have to be embarrassed." He 
leaned against the wall, his eyes soft. 

Paul chuckled. "Thank you for humoring me." Then he pulled the door open and escaped 
quickly down the hallway. 

As he made he way down the stairs onto the streets, Paul kicked himself for being an 
idiot. He had seen exactly what he wanted to see, had interpreted Daniel's concern and 
invitation into more that was really there. Of course he wouldn't think anything of 
inviting Paul up to his place after dinner. Daniel was straight; he couldn't even see that 
action as being suggestive to another man.

God, he could really use a drink right now, Paul thought absently as he walked Daniel's 
neighborhood. Despite the lateness of the hour, there were still people on the streets; a 
few storefronts remained opened, advertising 24-hour service. He crossed a street, only 
half paying attention, his thoughts whirling.

Could he trust Daniel to not say anything? Even inadvertently? But Daniel had promised, 
and he knew the man kept his word, no matter the cost.  Daniel wouldn't tell anyone, 
unless, maybe, he thought it was for a good cause.

Paul rubbed his face, frustrated. He was going nowhere with these thoughts. Just down 
the street he could see the flickering neon lights of a bar. That would work; grab a drink 
and have the bartender call him a cab. Excellent. 

The bar was full with the Friday night crowd, and he needed to push his way though the 
smoke filled room to grab one of the few available seats at the front counter. "Whiskey, 
neat," he told the bartender, who nodded and poured him the drink.

"Well, if it isn't Major Davis."

He turned around, surprised to hear the voice here and now. "Colonel O'Neill?" The other 
man leaned on the bar next to him, holding a nearly empty beer bottle in one hand. He 
stumbled too close to Paul, his arm going around Paul's shoulder for balance for a 
moment. Paul realized O'Neill eyes were glittering with the first signs of inebriation. 

"That's me," O'Neill put the beer down on the counter. He was silent for a moment, then 
bit out: "What's wrong, Major? Dinner date with Daniel didn't go well?"

Paul stiffened at the word 'date.' "Dinner went just fine, sir."

Jack gestured with his hand. "Drop the 'sir'. Anyway, dinner was so fine you're in a bar by yourself."

"Wanted a drink." Paul tried to smile and picked up his glass, taking a quick sip.

"Maybe." O'Neill nodded.

The whiskey burned its way down Paul's throat. "How long have you been here, 
Colonel?"

O'Neill shrugged. "Long enough."

Paul continued to nurse his drink, trying to think up something to say to Colonel O'Neill. 
He couldn't bring up the last time they spoke, that all dealt with work and was classified. 
The flickering screen over the bar caught his attention. 

"So, uh, how bout those Avalanche?" He nearly cringed as the lame words fell out of his 
mouth.

"They got their asses handed to them by the Wild." Jack slung back a long drink of his 
beer. "Why, you a fan?"

"Not really."

"Then why'd you bring it up?"

"They're playing." He pointed to the game on the TV.

"Uh huh." The beer bottle hit the table again. "You get much flight time lately?"

Paul sighed. "Not as much as I'd like. Just barely enough to keep my status."

Jack turned and quirked one of those grins at him, and Paul had to swallow hard. Men 
shouldn't look that good at his age. "Ever do a double barrel roll after lunch?"

He laughed, finishing his drink and slamming the glass back on the counter. "Have you 
ever flown an ILS inverted, just to see what the slope would show?"

Jack laughed. "I don't believe you."

"It's true, I swear it."

"Pilots...The smaller the dick.  The bigger the mouth..."

Paul's jaw dropped. "You know what they say, it's not the size that matters…"

Jack's bottle was empty, which he found out when he tried to take a drink out of it. He 
squinted at it and tried to put it back on the counter, but it fell onto its side. "So, how was your dinner with Daniel?"

"Why do you want to know?" If Paul were more paranoid, he would believe that O'Neill 
had tried softening him up a bit before prying for information again. That immediately 
put him on guard.

"I can't ask a simple question? The man was dead for a year and now he's back…."

"Shhh." Paul looked around quickly to see if anyone had heard.

"Oh yeah, like I'm expected to make sense when I've had this many beers."

Despite his words and difficulty standing, O'Neill was an incredibly coherent drunk. 
"Dinner was fine, as I said."

"And Daniel just dropped you off here? Did he decide to go home and sleep? What?" 

"We had a mild difference of opinion." Maybe if he admitted to something the colonel 
would get off his back.

"That wouldn't happen to be because Daniel Jackson is straight?"

He turned to glare at the other man, O'Neill looking as unrepentant as usual, just standing there, grinning at Paul. What the hell did the man think he was insinuating? Last time 
Paul checked the regulation had been Don't Ask, Don't Tell. That included making 
threatening comments to subordinate officers while off duty and sounding like a jealous 
boyfriend.

"You have no right to question me on things like that, sir…" Paul began. That was it! 
O'Neill was jealous. "You're the other guy," Paul murmured.

"What?"

"Daniel said…you're him…the other guy this week."

Jack narrowed his eyes, pulled out his wallet and plunked several bills on the bar before 
turning around and leaving. Paul pulled out the smallest bill he had, which was a twenty 
and slapped it on the bar before running after O'Neill.

Paul found him leaning against the side of his truck, hands in the pockets of his leather 
jacket, face looking out into the night. Paul had to stop, just watching as the streetlight 
caught the planes and angles of Jack's face.  He looked up at Paul and tilted his head 
sideways, breaking the moment. "That's not the kind of conversation you have in a 
crowded bar."

"You started it," Paul pointed out. 

"Too many beers." Jack frowned, rubbing his forehead.

And why did you have those beers? Paul wondered. Though by now, he had a good idea 
why, especially if Jack was jealous of whomever Daniel had taken home. "Give me your 
keys."

"Excuse me?"

"You've had too much to drink, I haven't had nearly enough. I'll take you home and then 
get a cab…"

Surprisingly, O'Neill acquiesced, handing Paul his keys. Paul got in the driver's seat, 
admired the fully loaded dashboard, the new car smell and envied O'Neill's salary. He 
waited until Jack got in the passenger's side. "Um. I don't know where you live…"

His words were stopped when Jack reached over, squinted and put his finger on the 
dimple on Paul's chin. "God, you must be more drunk than I thought."

O'Neill continued to rub Paul's chin for a moment before he drew back. "Yeah, let's just 
blame it on the alcohol. Make a left out of the parking lot."

***

Paul followed O'Neill into his home, watching as the older man hung up his leather jacket 
in a closet. "Um, I'll just use your phone and call a cab, ok?" He looked around, trying to 
find a phone amid the airplane models that seemed to be perched on every surface. 
Unlike Daniel's apartment, this house looked well lived in. 

"Why don't you have a beer?" O'Neill said, heading into his kitchen to grab one from the 
fridge.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

O'Neill straightened and grinned. "Unless you want to spill about what happened 
tonight?" 

Paul grabbed the beer out of his hands and twisted off the cap. "Nothing happened 
tonight. I don't know what you think went on…"

"You went up to his apartment."

O'Neill got that one in mid-gulp, so Paul ended up choking and coughing. "You followed 
us? God, Colonel, what is wrong with you?"

"I've seen the way you look at him." O'Neill pushed past him and back into the living 
room. 

Paul whirled around and followed him. He gestured with the beer bottle. "So, what? You 
thought I was the man Daniel would give up his rampant heterosexuality for? When he's 
got you as an option?"

O'Neill threw himself onto his couch. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The other man looked … sad. He sat next to him, hand curled around the neck of the beer bottle. "You say that like you're not aware of your own charm. Hell, I've had a crush on 
you since that time we were both hooked up to that alien device."

"Doohickey," O'Neill said absently. "Really?"

Paul could feel himself flushing. "Oh, yeah…"

"So since the alien doohickey, huh?"

Paul decided to have a little fun with him. "Well there we were, all tied up and hung…what man wouldn't get excited?"

O'Neill just looked at him, his eyes clear now. "Now, what did you mean by that, Major?"

Paul turned away, realizing O'Neill had taken him seriously. His collar felt too tight and 
he pulled at it absently. He had already screwed up once tonight, doing so with a superior officer might kill his career. "Never mind, sir."

Jack's hand touched his shoulder gently, running down his upper arm in a caress. Paul 
shivered slightly, trying to shift on the couch to hide his sudden arousal. How long had it 
been since he had simply been touched like this?

"Davis…" Jack breathed his name, as he moved closer, his fingers teasing the fabric of 
Paul's shirt.

"Call me Paul, please," he said, caught under the spell.

O'Neill threw one of those grins at him. "Ah, thanks. Didn't know your first name…"

"Oh." Paul took another sip from the bottle before setting it down on the table.

O'Neill slid closer to him, turning to grasp Paul's chin in one hand. He leaned forward, 
and Paul's breath caught in his throat. 

He nearly laughed when O'Neill gently bit down on Paul's chin. Paul pulled away gently, 
then dove back in, opening his mouth and letting O'Neill kiss him, nibble at his lower lip, 
and slip his tongue it just for a moment, as if for a quick exploration. He tasted beer and 
smoke, the scent of the bar still lingering on despite being left behind.

They moved apart, and O'Neill reached for the folds of Paul's jacket. Paul put a hand on 
his chest. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," O'Neill growled and just when Paul was about to ask whether this was just a 
convenient thing for Jack, the other man thumbed Paul's chin again. "And what is that 
thing with your chin?"

"It's called a cleft." Paul flushed at O'Neill's hungry grin. 

O'Neill bent down and nibbled again at the divot in Paul's chin, scraping his teeth gently 
over the skin, before running his tongue along and up to Paul's lips. Paul couldn't help 
groaning. 

This time when O'Neill pushed him back and pulled off his jacket, Paul let him. They 
began to pull at each other's clothes, which was hard because O'Neill insisted on keeping 
his mouth somewhere on Paul's body; when he wasn't nipping at his chin, he was 
nuzzling his neck, then biting down Paul's chest, tonguing his skin where his dog tags 
rested.

Paul grasped at O'Neill head, anchoring himself in his soft hair. "Can I call you Jack?" he 
asked, just before O'Neill made another assault on his flesh.

"No," he whispered, "I prefer to be called 'Colonel' in bed."

Paul burst out laughing. He moved his lips to Jack's neck, moving up until he was even 
with his ear. "Jack…" he moaned, licking the earlobe.

O'Neill shuddered. Then he moved into action, efficiently stripped Paul's shirt completely 
off of him, and diving into to take one nipple between his teeth. Paul held himself still 
with effort, desire rising in his belly. Jack bit down hard once, then laved the pink skin 
with his tongue before moving to the other to give it the same treatment. Then he moved down Paul's abdomen, continuing to kiss and bite all the way.

Paul let him, loving the way Jack's teeth scraped and bit at him, always so gentle, but 
with the promise of something raw and primal. When Jack undid the snap on his pants, 
Paul lifted his hips and allowed him to pull them down. Jack cursed under his breath 
when Paul's shoes stopped his progress.

They pulled away from each other, clothes melting away. Jack stood in front of where 
Paul sat on the couch, as if showing off his body. Paul reached out and ran his hands over Jack's chest, getting caught in the wiry chest hair. Scars broke the rich smoothness of Jack's bodyline, and Paul found himself coming to them over and over again, running 
fingers along the silvery pale lines. 

Jack carefully half- knelt, half-sat in from of him, hands on either of Paul's thighs, 
spreading his legs. His tongue snaked out and teased the tip of Paul's cock, which strained out towards Jack, as if rising up to meet him. 

Paul turned his head into the couch, biting down on his lip as Jack crept closer. First he 
took the head into his mouth, clamping down slightly with his teeth. For all that he was 
on his knees at Paul's feet, Jack was truly the one who had the control here. Paul 
understood and kept still. He was rewarded as Jack pulled back and licked all down the 
length of his cock, nibbling teasingly at his balls before fully engulfing it in his warm 
mouth.

God, it felt so warm, so slick. Paul wanted to groan, to grab Jack's head and force him to 
move.  But he feared the slightest movement while Jack's teeth scraped gently against the fragile skin. Sweat beaded on his forehead with the stress. His skin was hyper aware, waiting for Jack's next movement, the scent of anticipation vivid in the air. The inherent 
danger only aroused him all the more, and when a skilled finger probed behind his balls 
he couldn't help but cry out.

"Like that?" Jack pulled away to say.

"Fuck me!" Paul gasped out the words before he even realized what he was saying. 

Jack's fingernails scraped along his thigh. "Eager, aren't you?"

Paul leaned over and found his jacket in the pile of clothes. Out of one pocket he 
extracted a condom and a small tube of lubricant. He tossed both at Jack.

"Well someone thought he was getting laid tonight."

"I am getting laid tonight."

Jack chuckled, coated one finger with the slick substance and once again slid between 
Paul's legs. Warm lips surrounded the base of Paul's cock as tentative fingers sought out 
his hole. Paul hitched up a bit, giving Jack better access to his ass.

One finger invaded with sudden alacrity, and Paul grabbed onto the silky couch at the 
sensation. Jack started up his nibbling again, this time along Paul's inner thigh, biting 
harder than he had before while his finger twisted inside Paul. 

"Oh," Paul gasped when Jack found the sweet spot inside him. He closed his eyes tightly, 
wanting more, wanting to feel full with Jack's long prick. Another finger worked at 
opening him up, and Paul was writhing under the attention, unable to remain still now, 
even with Jack's teeth on him. His hips rose up to answer the slick touches.

Abruptly Jack pulled away, and Paul moaned with the loss, his entire body collapsing on 
the couch. With his eyes still shut, he heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper being 
opened. 

"All right, climb on!"

Paul's eyes snapped open, and he gaped at Jack, who had arranged himself on the rug, his hands clasped behind his head. His condom-covered dick rose obscenely from the center of his body. "What?"

"Bad knees, remember?"

"Bad knees my ass," Paul growled, all but jumping off the couch to straddle Jack's waist. 
Though the rug was soft beneath his knees, he could feel the hardness of the floor 
beneath. 

"Exactly."

He didn't dignify that with a response, just reached behind himself to grasp Jack's cock 
and align it with his hole. Then Paul slid back slowly, getting accustomed to the length 
impaling him. Droplets of sweat dripped off of his nose and onto Jack's chest. The 
moment had gone from teasing to suddenly intense.

Paul leaned forward on his hands, his legs spread awkwardly. He wanted to be closer to 
Jack, to drink in the scent of the other man's arousal -- that of sweat and musk. Jack's 
hands came away from behind his head and reached out to cup Paul's face between them, catching on the slight stubble on Paul's cheeks. They stared at each other -- just for a moment -- Paul lost in what he saw in that dark gaze.

Then Jack's hands slid down to cup and caress Paul's cock, and he was lost, leaning back to give the man better access, settling Jack's dick deeper inside of him. He tried to ignore the ache in his knees. Instead, he tilted his hips, working Jack's cock, moving faster, 
needing to feel that slip and side, that delicious friction. And if he moved just so, ah, that was it, just what he needed, that thrust against his sweet spot.

Jack's skilled fingers squeezed and massaged him, keeping up no steady rhythm, 
changing just enough to keep Paul on the edge. He could barely stand it, rising up to slam down onto Jack harder, needing it now, so badly. 

"God," he couldn't help gasping out.

Jack's hands moved faster around Paul's dick, while his thighs rose up to meet the other 
man. Paul moved his hips faster in response, torn between his own impalement and the 
slick hands masturbating him with skill. He was so close, so damn close…

Then Jack stroked him hard, just right, and Paul gasped. His release surprised him, 
shooting out onto his and Jack's bellies.

In response Jack grasped onto Paul's waist, thrusting his hips up and deep into Paul. He 
came with a shout, fingers tightening almost unbearably on Paul's skin.

"Oh, wow," Paul whispered, collapsing onto Jack's chest, wincing at the sticky 
unpleasantness between them. 

"Paul?"

"Hmm?"

"Get off, you're heavy."

***

Paul woke up slowly, snuggled into a soft warm pillow, cuddled between inviting sheets 
that weren't his. He opened his eyes, taking in the sight of the man across from him. Jack was staring at him, looked like he had been staring for quite some time. When he saw that Paul was awake, a wicked grin spread across his face.

He didn't have time to move before Jack pounced onto him, straddling his waist and 
pinning Paul to the bed. Their morning erections ground together, and Paul winced 
slightly. 

"Morning." Jack grinned down at him before leaning down and biting down once again 
on Paul's chin.

"You know that's starting to get a bit annoying."

"Admit it, you like it," Jack said, his voice husky. 

"Um, I…" he couldn't speak while Jack was looking at him like that, one finger idly 
stroking at his chin. Paul could feel the aches in his body and imagined he had little bite 
marks all over.

Before Jack could complain that wasn't much of an answer, the phone rang, jarring the 
moment. Jack leaned over him to grab the cordless on the night table. "Hello? Oh, hey 
Daniel."

Paul tried to sit up, but Jack was lying on his chest, one hand still caressing his chin. 
They were so close he could hear Daniel's voice coming through the earpiece on the 
phone.

"Jack, uh, I'm kinda worried about Major Davis…I called the base and he's not there, and 
he's not at his hotel either. He left here, uh, kinda upset last night…"

"Chill out Daniel. He's right here, we spent the night have hot sweaty sex."

Now Paul really wanted to sit up. Jack's hand covered his mouth quickly, covering up the 
indignant squawk he nearly let out.

To his relief he heard laughter on the phone. "Jack, be serious for once. You know, it 
wasn't like that for me and him. You know I don't like guys…"

"I know, Daniel." Jack frowned down at Paul before continuing. Paul tried raising his 
eyebrows to get Jack's hand off his mouth. It didn't work. "Why don't you wait a bit 
before you call in the SFs? For all you know, he might be down in the hotel restaurant 
grabbing breakfast."

Paul didn't hear Daniel's response; Jack had sat up, releasing his hold before he hung up. 
"Now, where were we…?"

Paul stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Maybe I should go…"

Jack slid one hand along his jaw, cupping Paul's face gently. "Do you want to go?"

"Next time I need to come to the SGC, barring intergalactic disaster…what happens 
then?"

"Then, I invite you out to dinner." Jack leaned forward, tongue coming out to touch the 
cleft in Paul's chin once more, but just before he touched, he shifted, covering Paul's 
mouth with his own. 

Paul once again carded his fingers though Jack's hair, opening his mouth and moving 
with the kiss. Jack slowly pressed him back down against the bed, to begin again.