Disclaimer - MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own them.
Hmm. Okay, this is predominantly a Jonas fic, but it could be construed as Jonas/Daniel...heh. Set between 'Meridian' and 'Redemption, Part 1' and rated R for sexual situations. Feedback would be loved.
*
No one talked to him.
He was optimistic by nature, he always had been. But after more than two months on Earth, more than two months after...after the thing he didn't do...no one was talking to him.
General Hammond paid him a visit once a week, but that was only because it was required. Dr Fraiser saw him in the infirmary once every two weeks, but that was only because of the frequent physical examinations he was required to have - even though he never went off world. Never went off base.
Never did anything except sit in a room that wasn't his, where every object and every word he read reminded him of who he wasn't.
Even he found it hard to remain cheerful.
And they weren't even actively punishing him. The fact that he was simply...ignored...was worse than anything else.
Two months, twelve days after he 'defected' to Earth, he started doing it.
It was in his quarters. It was always in his quarters. He'd sit on the bed, lay out across it, or stand with his forehead pressed against the cement wall - mostly the latter, because it wasn't particularly comfortable.
Unfastening the buttons on his pants, his hand would move beneath the clothing, bringing his arousal to life.
His hand would keep moving, he'd do what he could to last as long as possible and *just* when it was almost enough, *just* when the tension had built up to unbearable (and unbearably pleasant) levels...
He'd stop.
And he'd stay still, for however long it took.
However long.
It was insignificant compared to what Dr Jackson had suffered, but he wasn't into hurting himself - at least, not that way. This was all he could do.
It was all he was doing now; two months, twenty-three days after he first arrived, head against the wall, right hand sliding, adjusting, the first tendrils of pleasure beginning to gather into his groin.
So he stopped.
Cursing, without moving his head he planted both hands against the wall. It never became any easier, it didn't dissipate any sooner; he just had to wait - and occasionally groan - until it did.
Only this time, despite the fact that the door to his quarters was firmly shut, there was a breeze coming from somewhere.
Confused, he lifted his head away from the wall. This wasn't really the right time to try and find the source, but-
The wind moved. Closer. Blowing across the exposed skin on his arms, face and neck, causing countless hairs to stand on end, making him shiver.
And then further down, around the rest of his body.
Around his groin.
The wind moved faster around his erection and though he didn't comprehend it, Jonas did try to fight it. Moving was an extremely bad idea but he closed his eyes, clenched his teeth together, and pressed his head back against the wall.
Concentrating.
He would not let it happen. He would not let it happen.
It moved tighter still, almost as if wrapping around him.
His breath caught.
He.
Would.
*Not*...
It blew, hard.
It happened.
Yelling, coarsly, his legs failed him as he slid ungracefully to the floor. Maybe due to the tension - maybe due to something else - that had been the hardest he'd ever come.
Blinking, breathing, he suddenly realised something:
He couldn't stop the work. Even if they never accepted him, he couldn't stop the work. It was more important than anything else - even this.
Not knowing precisely why he'd thought that, he planned to try and get to his feet, when he felt the breeze again - this time, from further away.
Glancing around his quarters as well as he could from that position, he asked the question. He doubted he'd ever get a reply, but...
He asked it anyway.
~FINIS