By Fabrisse
Jack/Daniel | Mature | 7k
Summary: One for Daniel, one for Jack.
Daniel:
The straightforward approach might have worked, but subtlety won. It would be easier, if necessary, to back away and pretend innocence.
Egyptian beer, Aida on the stereo, and snacks in the refrigerator all awaited the later part of the evening.
Daniel's excuse was a project from his undergraduate days. There were so many tomb pictures of a game involving reed hoops and leather balls that speculation on the rules ran rampant. He'd done a redaction.
Jack was the most intuitive athlete he knew. By the time they were done running and laughing in the sunshine, Daniel would know the rules.
Jack:
Jack missed smoking. Nicotine could calm you or rev you depending on what you needed. Nothing else did it. And then there was just the sheer pleasure of something to suck on. Maybe that's why he preferred beer to wine -- the absolute satisfaction of wrapping his lips around the bottle.
Maybe he was wrong, there was something else that could calm or rev him. Daniel. Daniel who was standing across the room looking like an advertisement for sin.
Their eyes met. Daniel smiled.
Suddenly, it occured to Jack that there were much better things to suck on than cigarettes.