Not gay.

TITLE: Not gay.
AUTHOR: Mexx.
DISCLAIMER: Jack O’Neill and Jonas Quinn are not mine (shame) but are the property of MGM, Gekko Corp and Double Secret (probably don’t have as much fun with them as I would).
RATING: Nc-17.
FANDOM: SG-1.
PAIRING: Jack/Jonas.
SPOILERS: Season 6, reference to ‘Prophecy.’
SUMMARY: Jack’s in denial. Otherwise known as Jack’s not gay, but is bracket happy.
AN: Ficathon challenge for angelsgracie, thank you to suzvoy and faroutdragon1. for the fab beta jobs!

Jack’s not gay. Really, not gay. Or at least that’s what he tells himself on those few nights when Jonas isn’t in his bed.

He’s Jack O’Neill, Airforce Colonel. Airmen aren’t gay. He was a husband and father once. Again with the not gay. He’s practically in love with his *female* 2IC. He will list, in his head, a thousand lustful thoughts about feminine hips and shapely legs and breasts and encounters with countless women, just to prove to himself the fact that he’s. not. gay. Also? Homer’s practically his role model, and he’s not gay.

He once worried that his ‘relationship’ with Jonas ((unsmooth legs grazing his between unwashed sheets, sticky from sweat and come)) was about his grief over losing Daniel. But he never *fucked* Daniel ((felt his breath quicken against his lips or touched his dick under the briefing room table)) or even thought about him as anything other than a good friend ((at best)) or an annoying geek ((at worst)).

People drew parallels, he knew, between his late team member ((friend, perhaps more than)) and current team member ((lover. say it; lover)). The inquisitive nature. The curiosity. The intelligence. Jack sees the differences though, not the similarities. Differences like he never fucked Daniel ((never jerked him until he was *begging* for something – anything - and calling him ‘Colonel’ when he came)). Like he never knew how Daniel tasted ((knows Jonas’ taste though, inside and out; sweat and saliva and come)). Like Daniel never once questioned his orientation, unlike Jonas, who once lay against Jack, sweaty, panting, and asked “is this gay?” And he was new to earth phrases and had given Jack the most amazing head ((was that because he was a guy? knew where to touch and *how*)) so Jack didn’t insist on him shutting up and driving him back to the base just as soon as he’d caught his breath, but grunted and rolled over.

Now it’s three months since they first fucked ((on base, with BDUs still dirty and sweaty from a mission gone wrong to P3-something or other)) and he’s not intentionally counting, but well, sometimes he does that: thinks too much, and that’s also how he’s sat for three consecutive evenings ((on down time until his mountain of paper work is dealt with, but with Jonas’ quarters security camera out of commission that’s not going to happen any time soon)) convincing himself that he isn’t even remotely gay. But he’s started worrying about Jonas now, and that’s not even something he *wants* to think about, especially when he could be thinking about ((Jonas, hot, heavy, on top of him)) other things. Not how much he would have cared if he would have lost him due to that tumour thing. No. Best not go there.

Knocking on the door draws Jack from his thoughts - something he’s rather glad of, until he realises who it is. Who else would it be? Jonas, eyes wide, curious as always, but with a heat ((eyes dark, hot, like scorched diamonds in the dimly lit room and what’s left of the romantic in Jack wants to get lost in them)) Jack knows only he gets to see.

Jonas is on him in an instant, the door kicked closed behind him. Far less timid than he’d been when they had first coupled – not afraid to have wants ((to beg with hands and fingers and *tongue* now, not silent moans)) – and kissing Jack frantically. Hot. Wet. *Melting* into Jack’s mouth, backing against the door and groping Jack’s familiar body, tugging at his t-shirt. The pane of glass in the door Jack is banging his head against is cool, but Jonas’ hands are hot under his t-shirt and against his abs. He groans “Fuck… Jonas!”

Jonas pulls away, his ((kissing, *cocksucking*, perfect)) lips swollen red, panting short breaths. They didn’t used to kiss, but Jack’s found that kissing is something else that Jonas excels at, and he knows Jonas likes to show off when given the opportunity. He’s also good at the swift removal of clothing, which he demonstrates when they’re chest to naked-chest and kissing again, Jonas’ body a hot comforting weight trapping him against ((his bed, a table in an empty store closet, a cool ground mat offworld, Jonas’ bed)) the door. The hot hands on Jack’s chest sink and slide until they’re resting on his hips, and with them, Jonas sinks to his knees, his face level with Jack’s ohso*hard* crotch.

Jonas’ hands work too fast, and Jack soon has his boxers and jeans around his ankles and if he wasn’t so *God* damn turned on, he’d be thinking about how this was exactly the sort of compromising situation ((BDU pants round his ankles as he fucks Jonas up against a stone temple offworld, jerking him off in the locker room)) he wouldn’t like anyone to see him in, lest they think he’s gay. Which, at a more coherent moment in his life, he’d point out he’s not.

His hips buck against Jonas’ steady hands as Jonas takes his dick in his mouth and quite suddenly, he’s lost in a haze of lust that has become an oh too familiar emotion around the Kelownan. His fingers, grasping at Jonas’ short hair feel in unfamiliar territory; short and gelled, and not the usual feminine locks he’s been familiar with for *years* but still it’s good and it’s Jonas so it’s *right*. Jonas with his perfect mouth moving perfectly against him, right *there* and taking him deep in his hot mouth until Jack is more than bucking but *throbbing* and he feels like his whole body is vibrating when Jonas starts *humming* with him in his mouth.

Jonas’ hands grasp at his ass, and finger his balls and suck until Jack’s head is banging against the window pane again, and he blinks several times in quick succession, cursing softly and *moaning* Jonas’ name. Comes in his mouth, and smirks as his come trickles out from between those perfectly swollen lips.

--

In his post-orgasmic haze, slumped on the couch after jerking Jonas off, Jack’s mind wanders to his earlier thoughts. Still convinced he’s not gay, but – after yet another demonstration of Jonas’ ability to turn him on – maybe he’s something else. Not bisexual, or whatever the term Jonas insisted was used on Kelowna.

Someone willing to accept Jonas in their lives, and in their bed.

-- finis.