Jack stood outside the door to his house weighing the package in his hand nervously. What are you doing? Is this right? Is he going to go nuts, or is he going to get happy and sentimental the way he always does when someone does something nice for him? I'm hoping for option two but . . . god, what if he get suspicious and thinks I'm doing this to make up for some incredible fuck-up I haven't told him about yet?
Giving your lover a gift for no reason other than knowing he'll love it or look amazing in it was probably the most nervous part of being a couple, Jack was quickly deciding. It was probably the reason why usually it was the women who bought random presents rather than the men. It was definitely the reason why the women bought the men clothes while the men stayed far, far away from that area.
Crap, does this make me the little woman in this relationship?
Jack quickly reviewed his options and decided that, in all fairness, nobody could ever claim he was not in touch with his masculinity. No, he was just trying to adjust to his role in a new relationship and these little insecurities were to be expected. He fingered the tissue-paper covered bundle in his hands thoughtfully.
This is definitely a couple thing. Best friends do not do this - I am officially crossing over that line here.
After a little more nervous introspection, Jack took a deep breath and pulled out his keys. Standing on his own doorstep was stupid and irrational - he would be a man, give Daniel the damn present and hide in the kitchen until it was all over.
As he had expected, Daniel was lying stretched out on the sofa with a thick book, music playing quietly on the sofa. Jack paused for a moment to watch with an indulgent smile. A few months ago this was a sight he could not have imagined. It said more about the way his life had changed than all the sex and physical stuff in the world ever could have. Daniel was treating the house like his own which meant that he expected it to be a part of his life.
Although the sex ain't bad.
The paper beneath his fingers crinkled slightly and Jack remembered why, exactly, he had spent ten minutes standing on his doorstep. This mission would be in, drop parcel, and out again - no lingering, no side-trips, just get it over as fast as possible. He tossed his keys on the table next to the door, made a quick side-trip to the living room to drop his parcel on Daniel's stomach and then loped into the kitchen where he pulled a beer out of the fridge and downed half of it in one long swallow.
A minute later he heard the soft pad of bare feet in the hallway. "Jack, what's this for?"
The colonel turned to find Daniel standing in the doorway holding his unopened present, an expression of complete confusion on his face. An old sweatshirt of Jack's disguised his lean body, his jeans were faded and frayed at the hems and his hair was sticking up from hours of running his hands through it. Jack could not help the happiness bubbling up in his chest at the sight.
As if from a great distance, he heard himself say, "It's a present, Daniel."
"Why?"
Jack raised an eyebrow. "It's kinda got wrapping paper, I bought it for you - that equals present in my book."
Daniel flashed him a quick, pained smile. "Yes, I got that part. I meant, why have you bought me a present?" He did a quick calculation in his head. "It's not my birthday, I'd notice if it were Christmas - have I forgotten an anniversary or something?"
"For crying out loud," Jack muttered. Don't make this easy, will you? "No, there's no reason. I saw it and thought you'd like it. That's it, the entire reason. This is something most couples do, sometimes. There's no big significance to it. Why do you always try to read way too much stuff into everything?"
After a moment of puzzled concentration, Daniel took a couple of steps forward and fingered the paper carefully. "You just saw this and . . . um, thought of me?"
"Yeah."
"Oh."
"What, don't tell me no one has ever bought you a present before? I am not buying that," Jack told him severely, hoping like hell that was the case because getting teary-eyed over Little Orphan Danny would just ruin the moment.
"No, no, nothing like that," Daniel reassured him absently, still staring at the present. "But nobody's ever just bought something for no reason."
"Oh. I thought . . ."
This time the smile that the archaeologist produced was slightly strained. "I don't think Sarah or Peter were really the types and it just wasn't the done thing for wives to buy presents for their husbands on Abydos."
"Oh."
The present received another careful scrutiny, and then Daniel was across the room with his arms around Jack's neck, kissing him slowly. "Thank you."
Jack smiled against his lips. "You're welcome. Now open the damn thing."
Shaking his head at the man's impatience, Daniel stepped back all of two inches and ripped the paper off the present. It revealed a beautiful creamy sweater made of something so soft that Daniel could not help stroking the fabric and smiling in delight at the sensation.
"Uh, thanks," he said hesitantly, brushing his lips over Jack's before returning his attention to the sweater.
"Y'know, you could model it."
A moment later Jack had his old sweatshirt in his face and Daniel was carefully pulling the sweater on, humming luxuriantly at the feel of the soft fabric slipping over his skin. Jack had carefully found one in the right size, realizing with a strange pang that he knew Daniel's size, so the sweater was loose enough for comfort but clung enough to emphasize every muscle that the archaeologist had picked up during his years traveling through the Stargate.
"Jack, thank you," he said, giving the colonel one of his rare, brilliant smiles.
He rolled his eyes. "You're welcome. Again."
Jack quietly reviewed the exchange as he began pulling the makings of supper out of the fridge and Daniel returned to his book. That had quite probably been one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of his life. A simple present had turned into one of those moments when you knew that something important was happening in the relationship, although Jack suspected he would only know what that important thing was in a few years. It was not what he had bargained on when he had spotted the sweater on a casual run through a shop for some socks.
Next time would be much easier, now that this first time was over.
*finis*