Pacey stared at the pale blue walls of Jack’s bedroom and tried not to think. Thinking was overrated. Thinking led to remembering or worse, forgetting until he remembered something else. Rolling onto his back, he fixed his gaze on the pattern of the ceiling, trying to lose himself in the swirls of paint.
“You okay?”
He shook his head, “Not in the slightest.”
“Will you be okay by yourself tonight? I’ll stay if you want me to, but I think you need to get some sleep.” Jack moved into the room and sat next to Pacey. “And I’m afraid if I’m here, that isn’t going to happen.”
“Why?” Pacey managed to raise himself up onto one elbow and gave Jack a long look. “You think you wouldn’t be able to resist me and my manly charms?”
“Something like that.” Jack gave him a little shove, sending him back onto the bed. “We’ll want to talk. We’ll need to talk and I don’t think either of us is ready to talk about it yet. I’m not ready.” He looked toward the window then stood up, feet following his gaze. “I haven’t even gotten around to realizing that it’s all real yet.”
“I know the feeling.”
Jack leaned against the glass, staring down at the street, at nothing. “I can’t even feel yet, Pace. Is that bad? Wrong? I mean, I’m her brother, right? I should be all agonized and grieving. I shouldn’t be functioning, should I? I should be...I should be something other than this.”
Pacey forced himself off the bed and walked up behind Jack, leaning his head between the other man’s shoulder blades, resting against the solidness of him. “I keep thinking that if I think about it, if I try and deal with it, with reality, then I’ll come up against the horrifying conclusion that I knew this was going to happen and just ignored all the signs. And right now, I don’t think I can live with that.”
Jack nodded. “I keep wanting to ask why.”
“I keep wanting to strangle something.” Pacey gave a hollow laugh. “Jesus. What a pair.” He moved away from Jack and turned back toward the bed. “You should go. If you stay, I’m likely to break down again, and I don’t know that that’s going to be healthy for either of us.”
“You need someone...”
“No.” Pacey shook his head, all the while staring down at the floor. “No. Right now, I need to be alone with everything I’m thinking to keep the thought of her out of my head. And with you here, I can’t do that. I just...I want to be alone, Jack.”
Jack nodded and grabbed his jacket off the chair it was draped across. “I left Daniel’s number by the phone. Call. No matter what.”
“If I need you, I’ll call.” Pacey listened as he left the room, breathing a little easier once the front door shut softly and he was alone. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to endure the image of Andie’s lifeless body that seemed etched into his mind, burned onto his retinas. His wife, his lover, his friend -- nothing more now than a memory overshadowed by the very harsh reality of death.
Pacey headed for the kitchen and grabbed the six-pack of beer in the refrigerator. Pulling one free, he snapped it open and carried it and the rest toward the bathroom, shutting the door behind him in a vain effort to lock the world outside his door.
Jack knocked on the apartment door, leaning against the cool wood until he heard the lock turn. Pulling back, he didn’t even try to smile as the door opened. “I know we agreed that this is too fucking dangerous, and I know that I’m putting both of us at risk, but I need you tonight.”
“I know.”
“So, I’m really hoping that instead of slamming the door shut in my face, you’ll let me come in and lean on you for a couple of hours.”
“Just a couple of hours?”
“I don’t want to push my luck.” As he raised his eyes, he met the open, compassionate gaze of his lover, Daniel. “Besides, I know you’ve been on duty all day.”
“Get in here, McPhee.”
Jack smiled his thanks and moved into the living room, closing the door behind him. He leaned back against it, almost afraid to go any further. “When I saw you this morning...” he paused and took a deep breath. “I almost went to you instead of Pacey. I wanted to lose myself in your arms.”
Daniel nodded, taking a step toward him. “Somehow I think that your hugging the officer in charge might have given the game away.” He moved even closer. “Of course now, we don’t have an audience.”
“I just...” Jack looked at him, his eyes dark with trepidation. “I need you tonight, Daniel. And I need you for so much, so maybe we should just lay out the ground rules before we get started so that I know how much I’m allowed to need you.”
Daniel closed the remaining distance between them, pulling Jack into his arms, holding him tight against his body. “Need me as much as you want, Jack. As much as I need you.” He buried his lips against his neck, inhaling the sharp scent of Jack’s skin. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
One of Jack’s hands curved around Daniel’s neck, holding his lips to his skin, holding him against him, feeling the hardness of his body. The other settled in the small of his back, pressing him even closer. “Dan...”
Daniel turned his head and found Jack’s lips with his own, invading his open mouth with an eager tongue. Jack let himself fall back toward the door, pulling Daniel with him, on top of him so that the pressure between them increased. Without watchers, without restrictions, Daniel’s hands moved to Jack’s shirt, unbuttoning it, freeing him from it. Smooth strong arms freed from too thick material, his firm muscular chest like a divining rod leading down to the aching arousal that strained toward him.
Jack closed his eyes as hands he’d denied himself too long toured his body, memorizing the feel of them. Daniel’s lips traveled south with his hands, kissing the hard-planed surface as he sank down to the floor, unbuckling Jack’s jeans with a skill borne of practice. Moaning as the fabric was eased away from his skin, Jack grabbed the doorknob for support as Daniel’s mouth closed around his cock, sucking lightly along the length of the partially erect flesh.
“God...” Jack sighed, thrusting forward, meeting the warm cavern with abandon. One of Daniel’s hands continued to move the denim down Jack’s body while the other guided each stroke, bringing the velvet flesh to his eager tongue. Feeling his body tremble, the rush of blood leaving him lightheaded, Jack forced himself to push Daniel away, needing to prolong the experience.
Daniel stay on his knees, staring up at Jack. Silence was heavy in the room as Jack met his gaze evenly, not speaking. Finally Daniel’s hands moved, untying Jack’s shoes and easing him out of the rest of his clothes until he was completely naked. Once that was done, Jack helped the other man to his feet and tilted his head toward the bedroom.
The responding nod was almost imperceptible as Daniel led the way, heat burning through him as he felt Jack’s eyes sweep over his body. He tugged his shirt over his head as he walked, tossing it to the side before unfastening his jeans. By the time they reached the bedroom, all he had left to do was slip his jeans and boxers to the floor. Stepping out of them, Daniel turned to look at Jack, his body responding with a throbbing ache.
Jack stood in the doorway, his arms braced on either side of the framework, the light silhouetting him. His cock was harder than Daniel had ever seen it, nearly touching his stomach. Soft filters of the lamp behind him sent shadows dancing over Jack’s body. “I want to make love to you, Daniel.”
“I had that impression.” He was surprised at the softness of his voice, the hunger, the need.
“I don’t think you understand.” Jack stepped into the room, his change in posture no less dramatic. Jack walked directly up to the other man, grabbing his hips and pulling him against him, feeling the heated friction of their erections tight against one another. “Every time we’ve made love,” Jack moved his head and let his breath brush against Daniel’s earlobe, “you’ve made love to me. You’ve made me feel so good. You’ve made me feel like there’s nothing in the world better than your cock inside me.” Daniel moaned and thrust against Jack’s body. “But tonight I’m feeling reckless and dangerous and I want to be buried inside you.”
Their bodies continued moving, rubbing against one another, stroking without hands, not needing anything more than the smooth feel of flesh. Daniel looked into Jack’s eyes searching them for something. “I told you that you could have me whatever way you needed me, Jack. Just promise me that you’re being honest about making love to me. I don’t want to turn over and find out you just fucked me because you lost your sister today.”
Jack’s hand slipped between them and grasped Daniel’s cock lightly, running his thumb over the tip. “I want to fuck you because my sister died today and I’m still alive and I’ve got all this blood and hurt and anger and sadness rushing through me and I need to expel it from my body.” He moved his head so the words were whispered against Daniel’s lips. “It’s not the only reason, but for right now, I need to be in control of something.”
Daniel swallowed the words along with Jack’s breath. His own hand joined Jack’s between them, copying the other man’s movements until Jack closed his eyes and sucked in air. Stepping back, Daniel released him and moved to the side of the bed, opening the drawer of the bedside table. “You’re welcome to try and control me.”
Jack smiled and moved closer, his body eager, his eyes bright and his smile more than a little hungry.
| Chapter Three |
| Dawson's Archive | Buffy Archive |