Summary: The progression of Jack and Daniel's relationship through the seasons.
Info: Written for jdjunkie's Four Seasons thon.
Summer is a hot tent off world. Two restless sweaty bodies, stripped down to the bare essentials. Jack lies on his back, eyes closed, picturing Daniel's body laid out beside him. He doesn't allow himself to look at the reality. Firm, smooth skin. Nipples peaked, even in this cloying heat. Head tilted to one side, neck exposed to Jack's hungry gaze. There has been a physical awareness between them for some time, and he knows Daniel feels it too. But under that layer of lust, there is a heat that burns deeper inside his chest. The body next to him is coveted, but the man beside him is loved.
Fall is autumn leaves skipping over Jack's lawn as the wind scatters them from their neatly raked piles. Daniel can't help but laugh at Jack's forlorn expression as he wearily lowers himself to the ground. Daniel sits beside him on the soft grass, before tilting himself back to lie amongst the leaves. The pale sun still warms his face, and he reaches blindly for Jack's shoulder, pulling him back to lie on the Earth. Daniel's arms are wide as he sweeps leaves with his hands, kicking softly also to make an angel form beneath him. He finds Jack has been watching him with a guarded expression and wonders for a moment if this is something Jack had done before, back when he was part of something more. Daniel smiles softly, letting Jack know he is part of something again, even if it isn't exactly quantified, and doesn't yet have a name. Jack's own angel is a little skewed as his arms propel him up towards Daniel. Their kiss is a little shy at first, soft dry lips and a taste. Maybe this is a kiss of friends, maybe more.
Winter is the snow covered top of Cheyenne Mountain. Jack makes it all the way up before he pukes. The snow is as blinding white as Daniel's ascending light. It burns through his closed eyelids, and Jack tries to shield his face in his sleeve. Just five minutes, that is all he needs to himself. That is all he will allow himself. Not to grieve, that, he thinks will probably go on forever. But five minutes in this blanket cold to let himself scream, even if only inside his own head, for the unfairness of it all. At Daniel. For Daniel. For them. His cry reverberates off of the snow covered mountains, its echo heard only by one other soul in the vast emptiness.
Spring is a quiet trip to Daniel's place in his Jeep with the top down. Colorado wildflowers and coming rains scent the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jack, half asleep, trying to find a comfortable spot for his injured shoulder. Daniel gets him inside the house and onto the bed before a word is spoken. "I know you read the report, and I also know you're none too fond of my risking my ass again." Jack regards Daniel from his supine position, and their eyes meet. Daniel sees the fear, the want, the need. Jack reaches for Daniel, forgetting his shoulder, and winces in pain. With his other arm he pulls Daniel over him. "I'm not," Jack whispers against Daniel's cheek. "Especially since we just got said ass back." Jack follows Daniel's arm down to his side and comes to rest his hand on Daniel's behind, urging him closer so that they can finally feel one another. "You can have it for safe keeping in between missions," Daniel offers, spreading his legs either side of Jack's. Bodies and hearts meet. Their rhythm finding a simpatico to the raindrops falling outside.