"I'm not happy. I think we should break up."
The only response to the statement was the continued sound of running water coming from the kitchen. The speaker decided to repeat it. Louder.
"I'm NOT happy. I think we should BREAK UP!"
The water was turned off, a sigh released, then footsteps told the speaker he'd been heard. A moment later, said speaker felt the piercing glance of his -- companion -- from behind the couch.
"Did you just say we should -- break up?"
"Yes. And I said I'm not happy."
"Break up. As in break up?"
"Well, that's usually what breaking up means."
More soft footsteps, then a shadow falling across him. Jack looked up to find a pair of blue eyes regarding him rather seriously.
"So. You're not happy. Well, I'd agree then, we should break up. Of course, I'm entirely happy, but hey, I can work with breaking up. Not that I've actually broken up with anyone since," he leaned down and yelled, "HIGH SCHOOL! But then," Daniel added as he straightened and crossed his arms over his chest in a rather defiant attitude, "how hard could it be? Kinda like riding a bicycle, you know?"
Jack gnawed at his lower lip, then said, "So we're gonna break up?"
"Looks like. Shouldn't be too difficult since we haven't exchanged anything -- like jewelry."
"No, nothing like jewelry. Lots of spit and semen, but no jewelry."
"Well, I do have that FLYBOY tee shirt you gave me, and your green cardigan that you said brought out my eyes, but hey, I can get them cleaned and returned pronto."
"No, no," Jack waved his hand in a grand gesture of unselfishness, "keep 'em. You do look great in the cardigan. In both actually."
"Thank you, Jack." Then he added in an afterthought, "You know, we do have one problem."
At Jack's arched eyebrows, Daniel added, "CD's. We bought quite a few together. How do we split those?"
"Simple. We dump them into a box, then each of us take turns reaching in and grabbing one. That way, it's equal, you know?"
"But -- what if you pull one that I really want?"
"Um, I see. Yes, the CD's could be a problem. Ya got a better solution?"
"Let me think on that one. We'll save the CD's for last."
"Good idea. No problem with books or furniture."
"No," Daniel said as he sat down next to Jack, "no problem there. But I get the house."
Jack blinked. "Excuse me? YOU get MY house? I don't think so, buddy."
"Hey," Daniel said indignantly, "I'm the wronged party here, so yes, I get the fucking house!"
"How the hell do you figure that you're the wronged party?"
Daniel gave him one of his patented, 'Jack, you're not really that stupid' looks, then said with an exasperated sigh, "I'm HAPPY. You're the one who isn't. You're the one who wants to break up. Therefore, I get," he waved his arm to include everything, "this. You can have my apartment."
"Your apartment? Listen Jackson, I don't want your crummy apartment!"
"Oh. Okay then. I'll keep -- both. So I get the apartment, this house, your FLYBOY tee-shirt, the green cardigan -- you get all your fishing paraphernalia and the hockey equipment, not to mention the hockey puck that keeps the hall door open, and you can have all the swim suit editions of Sport's Illustrated. I think that's fair."
"Hold on here. You are NOT the wronged one here, I am. I get the house."
"Oh, I don't think so, Jack. I'm definitely the wronged one. I'm happy as a clam in this relationship. I'm the dumpee, and trust me here, I know from where I speak. I AM the wronged one and any court in the land--"
"--that recognized same sex relationships--"
"That recognized same sex relationships, would grant me this house." Then with a bright smile, Daniel said, "Hey, you can bunk in with Carter. I'm sure she'd let stay with her a few days until you find a place of your own. Just don't overstay your welcome. Which gives you -- two -- nights, tops."
Jack slid down and crossed his arms petulantly over his chest. "This isn't working out the way I'd planned."
"Oh. Sorry. Look, I'm a generous 'give a guy the shirt off my back' type of person. What say I allow you to remain here until you find a place to stay? You can have the spare room."
"Gee, thanks, Daniel. You're all heart," Jack said dryly.
"Your welcome," he said brightly. "I'm very unselfish. Even as the official dumpee. And by the way, is your unhappiness a general thing, a today thing, or a now thing?"
"Just today -- and now," Jack said, pouting.
"Ah. So maybe tomorrow -- you'll be happy again?"
Jack shrugged like a child. "Maybe."
"So I shouldn't rush the CD solution?"
"No. Maybe not."
"Would this make you happy?" Daniel leaned over and placed his hand over Jack's groin. He started to rub gently.
"Mmm, couldn't -- hurt."
"No, probably couldn't. Wanna fuck, Jack? Would that help make you happy?"
"Mmm, couldn't -- hurt."
Daniel continued to massage the now considerable bulge in Jack's sweats. With a twinkle in his eye, he said, "I don't suppose that interruption today had anything to do with your -- temporary -- unhappiness?"
"You laughed."
"Well, it was either laugh -- or yell. And it was kind of -- funny."
"Not my fault -- ohgod -- though. Touch--"
Daniel undid the sweats and slid his hand down--
"I know, babe, I know. Zippers do sometimes get stuck."
"You didn't -- fuck -- sweet -- harder -- help today. A little -- to the left -- you laughed.hard."
"Well, you did look cute. All red-faced, jumping up and down, trying to force gravity to work on your zipper, cursing a blue streak and in walks Teal'c? You were the cutest thing I've ever seen--"
"But, but--ohgod--you're supposed to--<groan>--support me, be my--<moan>--stalwart companion in -- all -- things. You're my bulkhead against a --yezzzzz--cruel world, my buffer -- ohgodbuffthatharder -- against the winds of --yesyesyes--everyday crapola, my -- ohmy, that's nice--"
"But sweetie, honeybags, tootsie roll, who held you up when the zipper broke? Who promised to rip it off with his bare teeth? Who tried to cover you when it finally did break and your pants fell to your ankles in front of Teal'c? Who kept you from falling and cracking your handsome head open on the edge of my desk?"
"Sam."
"Ye-ah, but I told her to! I mean, I was kind of busy tucking -- things -- back into my pants, you know?"
"And laughing. Don't forget laughing."
"But I was laughing with us. At me, but with us. Jack, honeybear, love of my life, my own personal bed warmer, I would never laugh at you, I was laughing -- with -- you."
"Mmm, Daniel? I wasn't laughing."
"Semantics."
"Well," Jack arched his body and thrust his hips forward, "You could kiss it and make it all better--"
"What an idea. So novel. No wonder you're the colonel and I'm only the lowly civilian."
"Daniel? Shut up."
Daniel grinned, then slid to the floor and with a snicker, pulled at Jack's sweats until they were around the older man's ankles. "No Teal'c here, Jack. Just -- us."
"Mmm," Jack said dreamily, eyes closed.
"Of course, as the dumpee, I'm under no obligation to do anything for," he licked up from the base of Jack's very erect cock, "this."
"Mmm," Jack said dreamily, eyes still closed.
"On the other hand," he gave Jack's cock a gentle squeeze, "I'm so damn unselfish. And you do have a beautiful dick--"
"Stuff it, Daniel -- please?"
Laughing, Daniel bent down and -- stuffed it.
Later:
"I'm never breaking up with you, Daniel. Never."
Daniel looked up from his book. "No, Jack, you never are. Trust me on that." He went back to reading.
Sleepy gaze on his lover, Jack smiled. Life was good, even if Teal'c had seen him with his pants down around his ankles -- not to mention Sam. He was just about to drop off when Daniel said, "Jack? Bulkhead? I'm your bulkhead? Geesh."
The End