Title: In the Morning Sun
By: _usakeh_
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Torchwood
Pairing: Dark!Jack/Felix
Rating: R
Author's Note: This is third of my Dark!Jack/Felix crossovers. I wrote the first two, As the Daylight Falls and Through the Darkest Night, a while back, so I recommend that you reread those first to refresh your memory before beginning this one. Either way, I hope that you enjoy the last part of the trilogy!

Jack Harkness pulled three bottles out of Rory’s cabinet and carefully arranged them atop the counter. He placed two glasses beside them; then, he stepped back and looked around at the empty bar. He’d hung makeshift ribbons from the ceiling, arranged the tables in a circle around the dance floor, and set the lights on low. He’d set up the music himself; hell, he’d even helped Rory make the food he was planning to serve his one customer. No. No, Jack corrected himself abruptly. Not his customer. His…guest? His date? Then Jack shook his head, brushing the hair out of his eyes. It didn’t matter what he called Felix; what counted was the fact that he’d said he was coming. He’d said he was coming; consequently – unless Jack had completely misread him, and that hadn’t happened for a long time – he was going to come. And he was going to come on time. Felix was nothing, Jack had gathered, if not fastidious.

It was all right, though, because he was ready. He’d cleared it all with Rory. Paid him for the drinks he planned on serving, promised to have the place clean and ready for business by opening time. He’d scheduled clients far in advance. And he’d taken enough of the drugs earlier to last him all the way through. He was at his best in the afternoons, he knew, when he took as much as he could on two nights before and then stayed up working off the excess energy. He’d feel like absolute shit once the last bit of the buzz faded. That much went without saying. But he was sure – damn sure – that this time, he was going to make it worth it.

Jack checked the time. Five more minutes. He brushed off his shirt and straightened his brown suspenders; then he took a seat at one of the tables and began tapping his feet to the rhythm pulsing through the bar. If it weren’t for the fact that Felix was due to arrive soon, he could probably drift off to sleep without much difficulty. Better this, though, than the alternative. Better to be a bit tired than to be too high, too hyped up to be fully in control. He’d learned that lesson the hard way more times than he cared to remember.

Laisser tomber les filles, laisser tomber les filles. Jack had given up on wondering how a song present centuries – no, millennia – ago in another universe altogether had shown up on this godforsaken fleet; instead, he’d merely decided to enjoy his good fortune. Laisser tomber les filles. He’d been sitting alone in a café the first time he’d heard it, watching as people huddled under awnings to escape from the rain. Those who’d come prepared reached inside their bags and sprung out their umbrellas. Jack remembered marveling at the way they spun out simultaneously; it was as if a whole field of multicolored flowers had instantly burst into bloom.

The last notes of that song segued seamlessly into a faster paced, louder dance track Jack had dug up out of Rory’s collection. Jack had decided to go with a diverse set of songs; once he noticed what Felix preferred, he could toggle the settings on the music player accordingly. Jack slid back the chair and got to his feet. This song, he thought, is simply irresistible. Nobody can hear this and stay still. After a quick glance out at the corridor, Jack began moving to the music. He raised his hands in the air and swung his hips to the beat; then, after offering his hand to an invisible partner, he circled the empty dance floor.

It only took Jack a few seconds to recover his composure when Felix walked into the room. After a barely perceptible pause, he strode over and extended his hand.

“Why hello, Felix,” he murmured. “Shall we dance?”


“Like this,” Jack said, pulling back from his partner and demonstrating a quick, smooth spin. “See? I lead; you follow. Got it?”

“I…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that, Jack!” Felix looked a bit uncomfortable, standing there in his uniform. Something had to be done about that, and fast. “I can’t dance. Well, I can. But I’m terrible at it! I can’t do any of the–”

“Everybody can dance,” Jack interrupted. “You just need the right partner.” He stepped forward. “And now you’ve got him. Want to give it another shot?” Felix seemed hesitant. “All right then,” Jack added, walking back behind the counter and picking up one of the bottles, “how about we have a shot, and then try it?”

“That’s hardly going to improve my coordination!”

“Coordination you’ve got in spades,” Jack replied, mixing up the drinks. “Your problem is that you’ve also got inhibitions. Lots of them.” He stirred the ambrosia and tonic mixture, added a lime, and offered it to Felix. “This should help with that.”

“I’m not so sure this is such a good…” To Jack’s infinite relief, Felix’s voice trailed off mid-sentence. Still, he felt anxiety shoot through him. Was he moving too fast? Was he frightening Felix? He hadn’t done anything quite like this in a long time; maybe his skills were getting rusty. “I mean, I have to work tomorrow morning, Jack! Last time I drank ambrosia, I was so sick I could hardly see straight.”

“What were you doing that night, Mr. Gaeta?” Jack teased. Then his tone softened. “Don’t worry about it. If you don’t want to drink, we won’t drink.” He raised the glass to his lips. “Last chance: want it?”

“Actually…yes,” Felix said with a smile, “I do.” Jack extended the glass; Felix picked it up and took a sip.

“How is it?”

“It tastes like…it’s good,” Felix concluded, drinking some more. “If I didn’t know better, Mr. Harkness,” he continued, “I’d say that you were trying to seduce me.”

“I can see how you got to be the Tactical Officer of a Battlestar so damn fast,” Jack responded with a grin. “You sure are a sharp one.” Jack quickly mixed himself a cocktail and raised his glass. “To the Galactica’s gorgeous – and valiant – officers.”

“You’re…”

“Incorrigible?” Jack drained his glass, placed it on the counter and strode back out onto the dance floor. “I aim to appall,” he added, showing off an intricate set of dance steps. Felix’s eyes widened as he watched. But he didn’t join in, so Jack stopped. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing!” Felix exclaimed, all too quickly.

“Really?” Jack took a deep breath. “I…look, Felix. I want you to have a good time. If you don’t like the music, don’t like the dancing…tell me, okay?”

“It’s…it’s great, Jack.” The glimmer in Felix’s eyes made Jack’s smile broaden. “It really is. I’m just not used to this,” Felix confessed. “Nobody’s ever done this for me before.”

“Is that so?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “You mean people don’t throw you parties all the time on Galactica? For shame, for shame.” Jack shook his head slowly; then, to his surprise, he yawned. “Uh oh,” he muttered under his breath. Being sleepy was better – well, safer – than risking a meeting while he was on a high, and it clearly beat crashing outright. But he didn’t want to be dull, either; if ever a man deserved to be entertained by the best in the business, it was Felix. So he extended his hand and, with a dazzling smile, asked, “So, shall we try again?”

As soon as Felix nodded, Jack swept him back out onto the makeshift dance floor.


An hour later, Jack and Felix were frantically pulling chairs and tables back into place. Jack had to pause frequently to catch his breath; somewhere along the line, he realized with dismay, he’d become extremely weak. Felix, on the other hand, moved with a confidence – a natural grace, really – that Jack had only been beginning to coax out of him during their dancing. Jack leaned back against the wall for a moment, watching; then, after taking a deep breath, he stepped over to the table closest to him.

“I’ll get it,” Felix called out, hurrying over to his side. Jack picked it up anyway. “No, really. Let me help,” Felix said, grabbing the other end of the table.

“Thanks, babe,” Jack replied. Did he look that fragile? Probably. He’d had to start wearing a belt because even his latest set of pants were too large for him, and his coat, which had once fit quite snugly, hung very loosely indeed about his thin frame. “I’m sorry about this, by the way,” Jack added, refocusing. “I just promised Rory that I’d have everything back in its place before the bar reopened, and, thanks to your charms, I completely lost track of time.”

“You sure it wasn’t the fact that you don’t have a watch on?” Felix joked as he lowered the table to the ground.

“Now that’s not fair. That’s not fair at all, darling.” Jack stepped up behind Felix and placed his hands on the lieutenant’s shoulders. “You’re gorgeous enough as it is; when you go all modest on me, I can’t help but want to help you…become more confident, so to speak.” Jack slid his hands down slowly, rubbing Felix’s back; then he reached around Felix’s chest and pulled the other man close. “After all, babe,” he continued, “you’re one hell of a catch.”

“Jack, you–”

“Felix,” Jack interrupted, letting go and then walking around to face the younger man. He could see eagerness – eagerness and desire – in his gaze, but there was anxiety present, too. Was Felix scared of him? Would he always be, given his behavior the other night? Jack took a deep breath. He couldn’t let himself think that way; he couldn’t let himself start to crash. “Do you want me?” Jack whispered, coming closer still. The aggressiveness that all too often accompanied his offers was nowhere to be found; instead, his tone was entirely open. “Do you?”

“I–” Felix stopped abruptly. Jack looked him in the eye, fear flashing through him. Had he moved too fast, too soon? Had he made a mistake?

It took him almost a minute to realize that Felix had only been reacting to the fact that Rory was standing right outside the door.

“I hate to interrupt, boys,” Rory said, “but we’re opening in fifteen minutes.” Jack had to give credit where credit was due; Rory had stepped in pretty damn smoothly.

“See? Lost track of time yet again.” Jack offered Felix his hand; without hesitation, the lieutenant took it. Then Felix glanced up at Rory, blushing.

“I…I’m sorry we didn’t finish arranging everything. Want us to help with it now?”

“That’s very kind of you, Felix, but I don’t know that Jack would ever forgive me were I to steal you away from him. Isn’t that right, Jack?” Rory asked.

“The man has a point.” Jack grinned. “So, how about we leave Rory to get ready for the evening and continue our conversation somewhere more…private?”

“Um…” Felix blushed redder still.

“I’m disappointed, Jack,” Rory interjected in an effort to put Felix more at ease. “I expected a more imaginative line than that, from you. Does that really do it most of the time?”

“When you look like this, darling,” Jack replied, posing for him, “you don’t need imaginative lines.” Then he turned to Felix. “That, babe, is confidence.”

“No, Jack.” Rory walked over to the two men. “That’s called being cocky.” Jack rolled his eyes in response. Then, to his surprise, he yawned heavily. “My, how the mighty have fallen. Looks like even you need to sleep once in a while, Mr. Harkness,” Rory teased.

“Excuse me?” Jack raised an eyebrow; alas, the effect was spoiled when he yawned yet again.

“That’s what I thought.” Rory smirked. “I think you’ve gotten off free, Felix. Jack is going to collapse within an hour or two, whether he likes it or not.”

“You trying staying up for three nights in a row and see you how you like it,” Jack muttered.

“The sleep-deprived look doesn’t suit me,” Rory replied, “so I don’t pull stunts like that. Doesn’t suit you too well either, you know. You should give that some thought. And while you’re at it, you might want to try eating at least occasionally. Then maybe Felix would be a bit more impressed.”

“Who says he’s not impressed?” Jack queried.

“Hey, Jack. I am standing right next to you,” Felix said, nudging Jack gently.

“He’s got you there.”

“Now wait a minute here,” Jack protested. “What are you trying to tell me? You think I should wear tighter pants? I’ve been giving that some thought myself.”

“Felix,” Rory said, ignoring Jack entirely, “would you like to take some food with you to wherever it is that pesky friend of yours is gonna drag you? I’d be happy to offer both of you dinner on the house.”

“Uh, sure!” To Jack’s horror, Felix nodded happily.

“Don’t give us too much,” Jack added hurriedly. “I’ve gotta maintain my figure here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Rory smiled at them both; then he walked off towards the bar’s small kitchen, leaving Felix and Jack alone once more.


When Rory returned, Jack and Felix were seated at one of the tables. Jack was, to his dismay, having an increasing amount of difficulty staying on his feet. He sighed heavily. When he was at his worst – at his most miserable – he could never actually sleep. Too many thoughts, too many memories. But now that he was feeling reasonably calm – content, even – he could barely keep his eyes open. He wanted so desperately to stay awake and enjoy himself, and his body just wouldn’t cooperate. Jack hoped Rory would bring him some of his favorite tea, too. That, at least, he could handle. And maybe – just maybe – it might help him stay awake for a few more hours. If he could know with certainty that he’d wake in the morning in the same mood, it wouldn’t matter so much. In all likelihood, however, he wouldn’t. By tomorrow he’d be crashing in earnest.

“Here you are, boys.” Rory had two paper bags in hand.

“Thank you,” Felix replied gratefully.

“My pleasure.” Rory smiled at Felix. “Don’t let him get you into too much trouble, now.”

“Ignore him, Felix,” Jack instructed. “He’s just jealous that I managed to get myself such a gorgeous date, aren’t you, Rory?”

“Damn it.” Rory threw up his hands in mock desperation. “You got me all figured out at last, Jack. Oh well. At least I won’t have to continue to play nice.”

“See? I was right.” Then Jack’s eyes settled on the mug Rory had placed on the counter. “Wait a minute. That for me, Rory?”

“Not anymore.” Rory raised the mug to his lips; when Jack’s eyes widened in shock, he lowered it, laughing. “Yes,” he managed, “it’s for you.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Rory. You know that?”

“One minute I’m jealous; then next I’m a sweetheart. It’s amazing, what a cup of good tea can do for this man’s opinion of you,” Rory commented wryly.

“Hey. I never said that they were mutually exclusive.” Jack took a sip of tea. Perfect. Just perfect. “Thanks, Rory,” he added.

“No problem.” Rory took a deep breath. “Now beat it, both of you. If I let you stick around, you’ll scare off the legitimate customers.”

“Some friend you–” Jack broke off mid-sentence, yawning. “Damn,” he muttered. Then he turned to Felix. “You ready get the hell out of this joint?” Felix laughed. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.” Jack offered Felix his arm. “Let’s go.”


“So,” Jack said, shutting the door and gesturing out into the room, “what do you think? Like it?”

“Wow.” Felix’s eyes were fixated on the large, soft bed. With a childish enthusiasm, he walked over, seated himself, and bounced up and down a few times. “This is incredible!”

“What? They don’t have beds on the Battlestar Galactica?” Jack let himself fall back into the armchair across from the bed. God, it felt good.

“Not like this. We have bunks. They’re not very comfortable.”

“Surely the brave soldiers on the Galactica deserve better than that! You should complain and see if they can get you nicer quarters.”

“Complain?” Felix laughed. “Have you heard of Saul Tigh? He’s the Galactica’s XO.”

“Can’t say I have. He like to come down here a lot or something?”

“I very, very much doubt it.” Felix’s eyes were sparkling. “I was just imagining how he’d react if I were to complain about the bunks being unsatisfactory.”

“Well, babe,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair, “you’re always welcome here. Just let me know when you wanna stop by, and I’ll get this room for us. Got it?”

“You don’t…” Felix’s voice faded out, and when the young lieutenant continued he sounded concerned. “Jack, wasn’t this…expensive?”

“Not a bit.” Jack grinned. “I know the guy who runs this racket. I bring him lots of customers, so he’s all too willing to give me a room for free when I want it.

“Oh.” Felix had tensed up slightly, Jack noted. Maybe it was only all right so long as he could trick himself, could make himself forget who the other man in the room with him really was, what he really did. He felt tempted to speak sharply. To tell Felix that he’d better get used to it. But he was too tired to start a fight. Instead, he pointed at the paper bags he’d placed on the small coffee table.

“You should probably eat that before it gets cold.” Jack shut his eyes for a moment; then, with difficulty, he reopened them. Damn it. He hadn’t timed things well enough. He’d hoped to sleep with Felix, not fall asleep on Felix.

“What about you?”

“I’m not particularly hungry,” Jack replied. “If you leave me a little, I’ll have it later.”

“Later?” Felix looked up at him skeptically. “I’m not sure that I believe that.” Then, tone softening, he said, “Sorry.”

“Sorry? About what?” Jack was genuinely perplexed.

“I shouldn’t try and force you to eat if…” Felix took a deep breath. “Are you…are you feeling okay, Jack?”

“Do I look like I did last time? I sure as hell hope not.” Jack had meant it to sound like a joke; somehow, though, his attempt had gone wrong and he’d just ended up sounding anxious.

“No, no.” Felix shook his head. “You don’t. You look tired, but that’s all.” Felix paused. “I…I want you to eat because, if you don’t mind me saying so, it looks like you need it. But then I realized that maybe you weren’t eating for a reason.”

“Calm down, babe.” Jack placed a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “I’m not that fragile. I just gotta be careful with what I eat these days.”

“What if you just eat a little?” Felix took a soft piece of bread from one of the food tins. “Will you be okay if you eat some of this?”

“Probably.” Jack slid over until he was right beside Felix. “I just…I don’t want to risk getting sick on you again.”

“You don’t…you were worried about that?”

“I wanna give you a good time, babe. I don’t think that would make for a very good time.”

“It doesn’t matter, Jack. I’d be happy to take care of you.

“See?” Jack raised his hands in the air. “That’s just what I was afraid of, Felix. You’re far too good for me, gorgeous.”

“I don’t know about that,” Felix replied, blushing.

“Yeah? Well then you must have some real naughty secrets, babe. And if you do,” Jack continued playfully, “you’d better tell them to me. In detail.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but–”

“Nope. I refuse to believe it, babe. A gorgeous guy like you? You must have some secrets to share with me.” Jack placed his hands on his lips. “I won’t tell a soul. In fact, I could even tell you one or two stories of my own, if you’d like.”

“You know,” Felix replied, face bright red, “I think I might…er, like that.” Then he picked up the tin containing the bread. “But why don’t you eat something first? That way you’ll have more energy and–”

“More energy, eh?” Jack nudged Felix in the side. “For you, babe, I’ll always have the energy.”

Felix laughed aloud; then, smiling softly, he pressed the tin of bread into Jack’s hands.


By the time they finished eating Jack’s exhaustion had evaporated. He knew, at some level, that he was still tired; he had to be. He simply no longer felt it. In its place he felt a deep, aching sadness. And the sadness made him angry. He couldn’t be crashing. He’d timed everything precisely so that he could avoid it – avoid ending up like this – in front of Felix. Evidently, however, he’d failed.

“Jack?” Felix was watching him warily.

“Huh?” Jack sat up straight. He could fake it. He could fake it for the rest of the night; he’d done it countless times before. It would be easier, of course, if they got right to the point. But he couldn’t quite do that with Felix. Not yet.

“Are you all right?”

“Absolutely.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Why?”

“You seemed nervous about eating, before. I just–”

“I was,” Jack interrupted. “But no, I’m fine.” Jack almost wished that his stomach were aching. At least he’d already explained that. He didn’t relish having to tell Felix about this. Jack took a deep breath. He tried to visualize something calming, something clear. He saw a lake spread out before him, glittering beneath the light of Arcadia’s two moons. He saw train tracks cutting across empty fields. He saw child soldiers, lining up for battle. No. “Really,” Jack repeated, using his own voice to pull himself back to the present, “I’m fine.” Jack considered beginning to strip off his clothes in order to get things moving along. That was too direct for Felix, though. Far too direct.

“You don’t have to–”

“I don’t have to what? Lie to you?” Jack got to his feet. “Is that what you were gonna say, kid?” Jack was about to continue, but the expression on Felix’s face – the shock, the dismay – made him stop short. “Okay. Okay, Felix,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, in my experience, most people do want to be lied to, in the end.”

“I’m not one of them.” Felix’s voice was steady. Very nice, Jack thought. Felix was no pushover. Sure, he was shy. Inexperienced. When it came down to it, though, he was strong as anyone.

“That’s what they all say. And yet we all lie to ourselves, and to each other. Funny, isn’t it?”

“No.” Felix did not, in fact, look particularly amused. “I don’t think it’s funny. People don’t have to lie.” The lieutenant got to his feet. “Why are you–”

“Acting like this?” Jack interrupted again. Would it be best to say it? Could he say it? “What, you want an excuse? What does it matter? It’s my fault either way.”

“I didn’t say that I wanted an excuse.”

“An explanation, then?” Jack felt fury flare up within him. Maybe if he could just be miserable, could let himself be miserable, he wouldn’t be so angry. Only that wasn’t an option.

“That would be…that would be nice.” God, Felix was easy to read. He was easier still to hurt. Jack pressed his hands together, willing himself to stay calm, to not do anything too stupid.

“Okay.” Jack shook his hair out of his eyes. “Wanna know what this is like? It’s like you’re balancing on a raft in the middle of a river whose current is constantly changing directions. You do your best to hang on, hope that it won’t throw you. But in the end it always does. That’s what I know, Felix. It’s all I know. Maybe it wasn’t always like this, but I can’t remember properly, anymore.” Jack knew, as he spoke, that he wasn’t making any sense. That, at the very least, it wouldn’t make any sense to Felix. But he couldn’t focus, couldn't organize his thoughts. So, instead, he stepped over to Felix and said the only thing he could still say: “I’m sorry.”

“You’re…sorry?” Felix wasn’t as frustrated, Jack realized, as he was confused. Concerned. “For what?”

For the second time in as many weeks, Jack started crying.


Jack could sense Felix staring in shock as the tears ran down his face; oddly enough, he didn’t care. He didn’t even feel ashamed. He was confused, certainly, confused and oddly frightened, but he was not ashamed. Feelings flowed though him, flaring up and fading like struck matches. He wanted to speak. For a few, fleeting seconds, he thought about how wonderful it would feel were he to be able to truly talk, to tell Felix everything, from the very beginning. The urge didn’t last, thankfully. Even in this state, Jack knew that doing so could only lead to disaster. There was too much. Too much.

Jack sat down on the ground, pulled his knees up to his chest. He shut his eyes. Too much, coming at him too fast. He probably wouldn’t have been able to process it even at his best; right now, he could only hope that he wouldn’t fall apart completely. His mind was filled with fragments of forgotten melodies, of half-whispered prayers; the silent hotel room, suddenly, was filled with voices rising in song. His eyes were still filled with tears. And yet, somehow, it was almost as though they were no longer his tears, as if he were no longer really in the room at all.

“Jack.” Felix’s tone was soft, so infinitely gentle. His touch was more comforting still. “Can you talk to me? What’s–”

“Of course I can talk to you, babe,” Jack said, looking up at him. The silent sobs had stopped, thankfully, even if the tears had yet to cease flowing.

“But…are you…” Felix, Jack thought, looked as disoriented as he felt.

“I’m…a little confused, right now,” Jack responded after a pause. “I crashed, Felix. Just now. I crashed really hard. So you’ll have to bear with me for a few seconds. That said,” he continued more steadily, “if you want to reschedule, that’s fine, too. My fault, after all. Should have planned this better.”

“Reschedule?” Jack tensed up in response. But no, he told himself: it wasn’t pity. Wasn’t pity. What he’d caught was simply pain, plain and simple. “This isn’t…I’m not a customer, Jack. I’m not going to ask for my money back if–”

“Right,” Jack interrupted. “But you really want to stay? You sure you want to stay?”

“Yes,” Felix replied, “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Jack stretched, pulled himself back onto his feet for a moment, and then collapsed back onto the bed. “Let’s see, then,” he continued, running his hands over the soft sheets. “Did you say that you wanted to hear some of my stories, darling? I can’t promise that the delivery will be perfect, but I’ll do my best.”

“Stories?” Felix sat down on the bed beside Jack. “Oh. Those stories,” he added after a pause, blushing bright red.

“No need to be shy, babe. Wanna hear them, or not?” Jack shut his eyes, then reopened them. The simplest things – the sound of Felix’s voice, the soft pillow against his sweaty skin, the hum of the ship’s engines, beneath it all – helped him stay grounded, stay focused. Kept him from floating away entirely into a world where nothing fit together any longer, where every path was covered with shards of broken glass. “So? What’s it gonna be, Mr. Gaeta? Yes or no?”

“Um…”

“Nice try, but that’s not an answer, Mr. Gaeta.” Jack rolled over on his side so that he could face Felix. “What’s it–”

“Yes.” Jack’s vision was beginning to blur, but he could have spotted Felix’s mischievous grin from miles away. “Yes,” Felix repeated, stretching out beside him. “Tell me.”

“Oh,” Jack replied, shifting over until they were lying side-by-side, “believe me, babe, I will.”


When he’d first arrived he’d wanted to see the shining city burn. He’d wanted earthquakes to topple the tallest buildings; he wanted floods to bury it beneath miles of water. This, it seemed, was the only emotion – the only desire – he could still experience. He could either be utterly detached, or terribly destructive. He was too angry, to alienated, at first, to feel amazed. Nothing his foster parents tried to get him to react otherwise worked. He rarely spoke to them, or, for that matter, to anybody else. At school, he did his best to be invisible. It wasn’t too difficult. After the first few days, the other students ignored him completely. They didn’t pick on him, didn’t mock him for being different; they just acted like he didn’t exist.

He only handed in work in one class: history. It didn’t matter, one way or the other; the teachers, he’d been told on the first day, had been informed of his “situation.” He’d wanted to snap back at them, ask them to be specific, but he hadn’t had the energy for it. So, really, he didn’t even have to do the work in that class. But he did anyway, because, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he found it calming. Comforting. One of his foster parents had commented, one day, that he found it frustrating. Found it frustrating that humanity kept repeating the same mistakes, time after time. He’d asked Jack whether he felt the same way. Jack had shaken his head; he hadn’t, however, been able to elaborate. Later, it occurred to him that it was the fact that humanity survived its many mistakes – pressed on despite it all, time after time – that counted. Counted above all else.

If it weren’t for that one class, most likely, Jack would have stopped going to school altogether. He often considered it. His surroundings were all so bleak most of the time; even the brightest of the signs shimmering from every corner were somehow bleached of all color. When they weren’t, they were grotesque. Terrifying. It would be easy to stop. To stop going to school. To stop getting out of bed altogether. But on most days the prospect of going to history class was motivation enough. He wanted to learn. No: he needed to learn. He clung on to each scrap of knowledge, listened to the lectures as closely as he could.

It was in history class, too, that Jack met the first boy he ever dated. He was the son of an ambassador. Had lived on over twenty planets in as many years. He rarely spoke up in class; when he did, however, Jack couldn’t help but stare, transfixed. Jack was sure that he was the most brilliant person he’d ever seen. And he was beautiful. Not the way Jeff had been – nobody ever could be, he’d known that even then – but beautiful nonetheless. But he could not tell Felix this. He could not tell Felix any of this, even if he were in a shape to explain it. So he stripped all that meaning away, skipped ahead to the part he could tell, and began, quite simply, with, “His name was Tristan.”


“Tristan?” Felix repeated.

“Thought it was rather odd myself. Turned out that it was from some ancient opera. Never asked for all the details.” Jack’s voice dropped until his tone was husky, seductive. “If you’d have seen him, Felix, you wouldn’t have asked either. Trust me on that.” Jack paused, pulled himself back into a sitting position. “He was gorgeous, Felix. Dark complexion, like yours. Straight dark hair. Shining green eyes. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him.” Jack sighed. “He was twenty when I met him. Just finishing school. I was two years younger. We’d both transferred into the school in the same year. I moved from the country; he came from another city. He’d lived in over twenty cities before that. He was the sexiest, most sophisticated man I’d ever seen, Felix. And I had no idea how to approach him. No idea what to say.”

“You? No idea what to say?” Felix laughed. “Somehow I find that a little hard to believe.”

“All right.” Jack smiled. “Maybe I had some ideas. But they weren’t very good ones. Country boy, remember? I was from a farm town.”

“A farm town?” Felix was incredulous.

“I’ve come a long way, haven’t I, babe?” When Jack continued, his tone was less flirtatious, less flamboyant. “A hell of a long way.” Then, with an effort, he refocused. Not now. Not yet. Maybe someday, maybe never. But not now. He couldn’t tell Felix now. “But I digress. Tristan was a brilliant student. He was also a bit of a…troublemaker. He thought that he could get away with everything. And he did. He did until, one day, they caught him. He’d hacked the school’s computer system so that all the computers did nothing but play dance music. In all the classrooms. Nobody could figure out how to stop it; there was complete and total chaos. We loved every minute of it.” That, of course, was a lie. Jack had stood aside while the others danced, hoping the loud beats and strobe lights would vanish and abruptly as they had arrived. They’d reminded him of that bar in Arcadia, and he didn’t want to – no, couldn’t – think of that. And the suddenness with which the sound had exploded into the room had resulted in a good five minutes of pure panic.

“How did they catch him, then?” Felix was smiling happily. He liked the story; Jack had known he would.

“Well, perhaps caught is the wrong word. When the mix finished playing, a bunch of credits went up onto the screen. He’d put his name front and center.” A ghost of a grin appeared on Jack’s face. “The administration decided that enough was enough and went after him. They took his computer and put it these lockers they used for contraband material. Unbreakably coded. They were right in the hallway, so you could try to open ‘em all you liked. The best math and science students could be seen there by the hour, trying to crack the thing. Never did.” Then Jack’s smile broadened. “It took me five minutes to do it.”

“But…how?” Felix asked, wide-eyed.

“Sometimes, babe, the simplest ways are best. I used a pocketknife to pick the lock. Nobody had ever tried something so…primitive. But it worked. He was amazed. Complimented me for being so creative. I had to try my hardest not to burst out laughing; since when was it creative to pick a lock with a pocketknife?” Jack shook his head. Then he took a deep breath. He had to hurry up and finish telling the tale, because he was losing focus, fast. The scene – the glowing signs, the warmth of Tristan’s hand on his back as the older boy led him through the crowd – was fading; other memories were flooding in, ready to take its place. “After I showed him how to do it,” Jack continued at last, “he told me that he wanted to take me out for a night on the town. And I wasn’t about to say no to that now, was I?” Only that wasn’t true, either. He’d almost turned Tristan down, despite how very much he desired him. Despite? No. Because of how much he desired him. No matter how many times he saw men together in the city, or heard people speak about it like it was no big deal, he couldn’t erase the old sayings from his mind.

“So where did you go?” Right. Focus, Jack told himself. Focus.

“First he took me to a restaurant. Finest food I’d ever tasted. He didn’t even let me see the check. He was like that, Tristan. And, of course, his folks had money.” He didn’t even let me see the check. Well…that was as close as he could get to what had happened without revealing a hell of a lot more. Halfway through the meal, a jazz band had burst out onto the stage. He hadn’t had any warning. If he’d been told about it in advance, maybe the drumroll that kicked off the first song wouldn’t have sounded quite so much like a series of gunshots. Maybe he wouldn’t have gone pale, dropped his fork, and raced out into the rain. Maybe Tristan wouldn’t have gone after him. Neither of them had paid, in the end.

For a split second, Jack considered explaining it. Telling Felix, and then going on to describe how Tristan had reached out towards him, had pulled him into a tight embrace. The rain was so heavy that they’d been soaked to the skin within seconds, but he’d hardly noticed. First he’d been too frightened; then he’d been consumed by quite another sort of emotion. God, how he’d wanted him. And then there’d been that kiss, that kiss there in the rain – pressed up against the edge of a building under the cover of darkness, the suggestion of secrecy making it all the more thrilling – that had taken away from the empty fields of Arcadia and had given him, in a moment, a whole new world.

“Jack?” Felix’s hand was on his forehead. “Are you okay, Jack?” Felix frowned, placed his hand against his own forehead, and then returned it to Jack’s. “I…I think you have a fever.”

“That so?” Jack felt relief surge through him. He had an excuse, now. Wouldn’t have to tell Felix that he simply couldn’t go on because he couldn’t stand it, couldn't stand the prospect of lying so damn much. “You sure?”

“I…I’m pretty sure, actually. Can I get you anything?”

“You…no. You just stay right here, darling.” Jack sighed. “I’ll be fine. It’ll pass.”

“Does this happen…often?”

“When you crash,” Jack replied wearily, “you can…you can react in any number of ways. Always makes you tired. Sometimes you get a fever, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes it makes you real sick. Sometimes you get lucky and it doesn’t. Always makes you sad.”

“Oh.” Felix looked…upset. Was he disappointed? Clients had kicked him out of their rooms for far less. “I’m sorry. I wish that there was something I could do.”

“Unless you’re hiding some drugs in those pockets of yours, babe, it’s not gonna work. But I appreciate the gesture.” Jack shivered. “And I’m sorry, darling. I’m really sorry about this.” He paused. Then, knowing what Felix’s answer would be, he added, “Want me to try and tell you the rest of the story?”

“Oh, but…you should rest.” Felix pulled back one of the blankets and covered him with it. “If you want, though…I can tell you a story. It won’t be as good as yours–”

“Don’t be silly,” Jack interrupted. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely, Felix.” Jack shut his eyes. “While you’re at it,” Jack continued, “why don’t you come under the covers with me. I’ll keep you warm. I’ll keep you real warm.”

The lieutenant laughed. But he joined Jack anyway. Then, huddled beneath the covers with him, he began to speak.


He was making his way through a crowded market. Goods were being bought and sold; thousands of different currencies were passing into the hands of eager sellers. Satisfied buyers spoke to each other in hundreds of different languages, most if not all of which Jack did not understand. But he didn’t mind. He was surfing on waves of sound; he was absorbing the energy passing through the place, channeling it so that it would keep him moving forward, keep him moving past stand after stand. He couldn’t afford to stay still, after all. If he stopped for the slightest moment, they’d be on him; if he stayed still for over a second, they’d catch him for sure. And then he’d be back in that room, surrounded by images he only half allowed himself to remember.

Jack heard helicopter wings beating through the humid air and looked up, body tensed, ready to run. When he saw the stamp imprinted across the ship’s body he grinned. He need not have worried; it was only a ship one of the vendors had put together from scraps. Some of which were from the Agency. Only…no. That wasn’t possible. Jack leapt over a pair of blue lizard creatures crawling below him and began to sprint in earnest. He could feel the Agency’s scanners slipping out into the air, primed to pick up the slightest trace of his presence. If he didn’t move they’d hit the jackpot. That’s what you get, he told himself, for letting your guard slip. For getting taken in by appearances. Jack crashed through the edge of a food stand, tearing a hole in his coat in the process. The red, winged owner sent a hiss his way. Sorry, buddy, Jack thought. I’d accept that offer for a duel, but I’ve got bigger foes to fight right now.

Jack tore around yet another corner. The alleyways were looking smaller and smaller; the crowd, which had seemed to open worlds up before him, was now making him claustrophobic. He needed space. Open space. He wanted to take the stand closest to him and knock all the small, sparkling bracelets laid out upon the table to the ground. To shove the vendors out of the way. To get out of there, any way he could. Because he couldn’t breathe anymore, couldn’t breathe, and he knew well enough it wasn’t from the running. If only it were. No. He was being suffocated. They were sending something out into the air to send fear pulsing though him. To paralyze him so that they could get him and put him back in that room. And it was working. It was–

“Jack! Stop!” Hands pinning him down. He had to get free, had to get free of them, go somewhere so far away even they couldn’t follow. “Stop!”

“LET ME GO!” He would rather have stayed silent – don’t give them anything, anything at all – but they ripped the cry out of him. “LET ME GO! LET ME…” The image was fading out at last; in its place, he saw Felix Gaeta’s worried face. “Hello there,” he gasped after a pause. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Gaeta.”


“It’s…it’s nice to see you too, Jack,” Felix replied at last. Jack could tell that Felix wasn’t sure how to approach him, wasn’t sure whether to address what had just happened or ignore it. The young man wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him – he could see it in his eyes – but he didn’t quite dare. Good. Better that Felix keep his distance, at least for the time being. In a few minutes, the room would start to seem real again; the panic and confusion lurking behind his attempts and playfulness, too, would be gone. Hopefully, anyway. “Are you all right?”

“Never been better.” Jack moved closer to Felix and began running his hand over the lieutenant’s back. “I’ve just woken up beside a very handsome young man, after all.” Jack slipped his hand beneath Felix’s jacket and continued his massage. “For some reason, he still seems to be fully clothed. But that can be corrected, can’t it, Felix?” Jack kept his voice low and husky. He couldn’t do much well anymore; this, however, he could pull off even when he wasn’t anywhere near his best.

“I…” Felix’s voice trailed off as Jack pressed his body into his and leaned in for a kiss. At that, Jack thought, he’d have him for sure. But, to his surprise, when he pulled back, Felix placed a hand on his chest and held it there, preventing him from once again closing the distance between them. “Wait,” he gasped. “Just–”

“What?” Jack frowned. This wasn’t…had he done something wrong? “Don’t tell me you don’t want me, darling. I know you want me. And now you’ve got me. So don’t hesitate. Go on. I’m yours, babe. All yours.”

“But Jack…this isn’t…no, it wouldn’t be right.” Felix shook his head. “No. I’d be…I’d be taking advantage of you.”

“Taking advantage of me?” Jack’s laugh was hard and rough.

“You’re…you’re sick. You fell asleep in the middle of the story I was–“

“Nothing personal, babe, I assure you,” Jack interjected hurriedly. “Just a little tired. That’s all. I’m fine now. Just fine.”

“Fine?” Felix placed a hand on his forehead; instinctively, Jack shivered. “You still have a fever, and you…you woke up screaming. That’s fine?”

“Okay, you win. I’ve been better.” Jack raised his hands in the air. “What of it?”

“What of it?” Felix sighed. “I…I don’t understand you. Do you really think I want to…that I’d want to frak you when you feel awful like this? When you won’t enjoy it?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, darling,” Jack responded with far more confidence than he felt. Perhaps, it was beginning to occur to him, Felix found his assumption that he wouldn’t give a damn…insulting. “If you want me, I’m yours. Nothing wrong with that,” he added.

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with…?” Felix was getting increasingly dismayed. “Well, let me ask you this. Would you be angry if somebody else…if somebody else had sex with me when I obviously wasn’t all right, even if I offered myself to him? Would you be mad at him?”

“That’s different,” Jack replied immediately. “That’s you. I’m different.”

“Different? You…you think that people don’t need to respect you? That you don’t deserve respect?”

“That’s right, Mr. Gaeta.” Jack lay back and placed his hands over his burning face. “I’d say I’ve more or less forfeited my right to that, don’t you think?”

“I don’t–”

“Drop it.” Jack hadn’t meant to make it sound quite so much like an ultimatum; somehow, however, he had. “Please just drop it, Felix,” he added a moment later. Then, ever so gently, he began stroking Felix’s cheek. “Why don’t we talk about something else? You could start by telling me the rest of your story. You up for that, babe?”

“I…”

“C’mon, darling.” Jack took a deep breath. “I…I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” Jack stirred, suddenly restless for all his exhaustion. “And I don’t do apologies very often, babe.”

“It’s okay.” Felix moved closer. “It just…took me by surprise. That’s all. I’d be happy to tell you the rest of the story, if you’d like,” he concluded.

“You’re too kind to me, babe. Far too kind to me.” Jack laughed lightly. It was true, though. Felix really was. He really, really was, because, even now – even as he gently separated himself from the young lieutenant and curled up beneath the blankets – he was already trying to figure out where the closest party was, how long it would take him to earn enough to get a hit, and how he was going to make sure he pulled it all off without Felix noticing a thing.


Jack’s world darkened fast. He could almost see the last remnants of the drug draining out of his system as he strode down the corridor. The disorientation and fuzziness had vanished; in their place came a drive, a sense of purpose, like none other in the world. He knew what he had to do – knew what he had to get – and he had to do it now. Strangely enough, he also felt oddly powerful. He would succeed. He had to succeed, and he would. Jack stretched. The sudden energy was somewhat worrisome. The exhaustion he’d felt before had been entirely normal, given the circumstances; this, however, was anomalous. It was at moments like these when Jack began to wonder whether he’d truly pushed it too far. Whether he’d really made himself crazy for good, so crazy that even quitting – were he to dare try it – wouldn’t fix him.

“Why hello, Mr. Harkness.” Jack whirled around. Familiar face, familiar voice. But he couldn’t quite place her. “What? You don’t remember me?”

“Of course I remember you,” Jack purred, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. She was wearing pearls and a red dress. A red dress. And that perfume. That particular perfume. “Okay,” he said after a pause, “now I remember you. It took me a second. Not that you’re not memorable, darling. In fact, you are nothing if not memorable.”

“You flatter me, my boy.” The woman’s lips curved up into a smile. There was something distinctly feline about her; she reminded Jack of a cat approaching its prey.

“Hardly.” Jack looked her in the eye and raised an eyebrow inquiringly. “So, you still gonna go to the party over there?”

“Unless you provide me with a better alternative, yes.” The woman wrapped her arm around his waist and drew him in towards her. “But I’m pretty sure you’re more than capable of that.”

“I would like to think so.” Jack grinned. “I’d prefer to spend my time with you in a more intimate setting. Interested?”

“Perhaps.” The woman slid her hand under Jack’s shirt and felt her way up to his chest. “My, my,” she commented. “Seems like there’s something you need right now, Mr. Harkness. Isn’t that so?”

“Perhaps,” Jack replied, keeping his gaze level. “Want to find out precisely what it is?”

“Oh, I know. I know. But you need not worry about that. I’ve got just what you’re after.”

“I don’t doubt it, darling. In more ways than one,” Jack replied. Then he reached out and pulled her into a kiss. As he pulled back he knew he was set. Really, he’d been set all along; she’d been sold on him from the first second she’d seen him slumped against the wall in that empty corridor.

“All right then, my boy,” she said, tightening her grip around him, “let’s go.”

Without another word, they did.


He was going to split them up, split them up so that he could take half before Felix woke and the other half after he left. Had the woman provided him with the usual powder it wouldn’t even be a problem, of course, but she hadn’t; she’d brought pills instead. Good pills. Very good pills. Jack counted them out, placing three in the palm of his hand and the other three in his pocket. Before he took the ones he’d allotted himself he took one last glance at Felix, who was curled up on the bed, just as he’d left him. Were he to wake, Felix would probably want to stop him. But what of it? It wasn’t as if he’d be able to form a lasting relationship with Felix. He could do one-night stands; he could do flings. But he couldn’t possibly be what Felix was seeking. Couldn’t possibly. To think otherwise would be to engage in a very dangerous sort of self-delusion.

“And I’ll do just about any drug,” Jack mumbled as he gazed at Felix, “but I won’t do that. Self-delusion has never been my thing, babe. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, but this is how it’s going to be. This is how it’s going to go.”

“For what?”

“Felix?” Jack jumped back in surprise. He’d been ready to do what he had to do – ready to leave – and now Felix was awake and asking questions. He shouldn’t even have paused for a second; he should simply have escaped. Or, better yet, not returned at all.

“Sorry for what?” Although Felix’s voice was still fuzzy with sleep, Jack knew he couldn’t simply ignore the boy. “You haven’t done anything for which you need to apologize.”

“For which I need to apologize?” Jack echoed, his mouth curling up into a half-smile despite himself. “I’ve never met anyone who goes to such lengths to avoid a dangling preposition, babe, and I’ve known a hell of a lot of people.”

“I…I just…well, I guess I just like following the rules.” Felix sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Some people say I follow them too often, but–”

“But you don’t see how that’s possible?” Jack laughed. “We’d make quite a pair, wouldn’t we? I don’t think there’s a rule out there I haven’t broken, babe, and I think it would take somebody putting a gun to your head for you to color outside the lines.”

“Color outside the lines?” Felix repeated.

“Yeah. Never heard that one?” Jack asked. God. He kept forgetting that this was not his world. This wasn’t even part of his fucking universe. “Someone who always colors inside the lines is someone who always follows the rules. But I suppose you’ve surmised as much.” Jack sighed. “We’re different in so many ways, aren’t we?”

“Are you trying to tell me that I should forget about you?” Felix asked.

“What was that?” The question, and the boldness with which it was asked, had stunned Jack. He didn’t think that Felix had it in him. It wasn’t that he believed that the boy was being dishonest on purpose. He’d simply thought that he was too naïve, too inexperienced to understand that it was never going to work.

“You heard me. But I’ll say it again if I must,” Felix said. The young man’s eyes were narrowed; Jack didn’t think he’d seen him that angry before. “Are you trying to tell me that I should forget about you?”

“You want the real answer, or the answer you want to hear?”

“The real answer. Does anybody ever say otherwise? Do people ever actually ask others to lie to them?”

“You’d be surprised how many do, babe. You’d be surprised,” Jack repeated. He was putting off the moment he had to say it, though, and he knew it. At last, he managed to say, quite simply, “Yes.”


“Why?” Felix was clearly attempting to hide the way Jack’s answer had hurt him. He wasn’t doing very well. “Why?” Felix repeated. “Why are you so set on pushing me away?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jack shrugged. If he let his sadness show, Felix would be heartbroken; if he acted like he didn’t give a damn, Felix would be too furious to feel sad. “I can’t give you what you want. You’d want me to change. And I’m not willing to do that. Not for you, or for anybody else.”

“You’re not even going to try?”

“Nope.” Jack shrugged again. “Not even going to try, babe. Sorry, but that’s just how things go.”

“Then you’re a coward.”

“Indeed.” Jack kept his expression blank. He couldn’t let Felix realize that he cared. He’d rather have Felix hate him than hurt the boy. It was unfortunate, but the alternatives were worse still. “I’m an addict. Addicts are always cowards, and are almost always liars. Luckily for you, I’m an exception to the second part of that rule. I tell it like it is. And the fact is that I’m not going to change. I’m not even going to try and change. If you can accept that and still want to fool around with me – fuck me a few times, just for the hell of it – then good for you. If not, it’s goodbye, babe. Nothing personal, but it’s goodbye.”

“I don’t believe you.” Felix slid out of bed and began to change into his uniform. His movements were quick, efficient. Either the boy was better at hiding his feelings than Jack had initially thought he was or he wasn’t actually that upset. Or he hadn’t gotten the point yet. “You wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t just walk out. You’re better than–”

“Are you going to make me have to prove it to you?” Jack asked, tone as harsh as he could make it. “I’d rather not leave on those terms, so please, babe. Don’t make it my only option.” Jack reached a hand into his pocket and felt the three remaining pills. As soon as he left the room he’d take them; letting Felix see him swallow them down, even if he were never to see the boy again, was something he’d rather avoid.

“Yes, I am.” Felix paused; was he, Jack wondered, going to force him into leaving just like that, with the boy in the middle of a sentence? After a pause, Felix continued, “You’re a better person than you’d have me believe. I’ve seen it. I know it, even if you don’t. I know it, and I know that you can change.”

“One thing’s for certain, babe: nobody changes unless they want to change. And I don’t.”

“Why?”

“You asked that question once already and you didn’t like the answer. Are you going to make me repeat myself?” Felix didn’t respond. “I don’t want to change because I don’t see the point. I don’t see why real life is any better than the world I’ve made for myself. I have to fight through the lows, Felix, but the highs are magnificent. Better than anything you’ve ever felt. Better than anything you ever will feel.”

“You can’t know that,” Felix replied, shaking his head.

“Neither can you. I’ll take my chances. Although, really, you’re the one who is taking the chances around here. If there’s one thing you can count on in this world, after all, it’s drugs. You can’t count on surviving the next Cylon attack. You can’t count on your supposed friends – they’ll betray you faster than you’d think possible – and you can’t count on love. But you can count on chemicals, babe. You can count on the chemicals.” It was true, too. What else is there out here, Jack thought, but the shining moments he sometimes stole out of cold, empty rooms and quickly darkening horizons? They were tied together, him and the drugs; for better or for worse, he’d never be able to extricate himself from the glowing web they’d woven for him.

“You don’t have to stop. You can keep taking them. I’m not going to compete with the drugs; as you said, you can count on them in a way you can’t count on me. I mean, you’re right. I might get killed in the next raid and then, Gods forbid, you’d feel something.”

“Damn, Felix. I guess I deserved–”

“It’s not about deserving or not deserving. Life isn’t like that,” Felix said. There was an intensity to his voice that kept Jack in his place even though all common sense told him it was time to leave. Or that it had been time to leave five minutes ago. “Did you hear me? Life isn’t like that at all.”

“No kidding,” Jack quipped. Then, with more difficulty than he wanted to admit, he turned away from Felix and took his first step towards the door.


He turned back around before Felix had a chance to voice a protest. He couldn’t have explained why he did it. Not for all the pills in the world could he have put words to the feeling that flashed through him when he moved away from the young man. But he couldn’t have done otherwise. Not for the finest powder could he have done otherwise.

“I told you that you couldn’t–”

“No need, Felix. There’s really no need for that. And you’d better not look so pleased, either. This is not going to be easy. This is not going to be easy, and it’s not – no matter what you think – going to be worth it in the end.”

“It’s already worth it,” Felix replied. A tear formed in one of the lieutenant’s eyes; infinitely slowly, it rolled down his cheek. “Every moment is worth it.”

“That’s a nice thought,” Jack managed to respond before his voice began shaking. “That’s a nice thought,” he repeated, “but you have to realize that this is not going to end well.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can make a pretty damn well educated guess. If it were anybody else I wouldn’t give a damn, but you’re a good kid. And if you’re not careful I’m going to break your heart, babe. I’ll break every promise I make.”

“That’s why I’m not asking you to make any promises.” Felix stepped closer. Another tear, Jack saw, had joined the first. “I’m not even going to make you promise to try.”

“You’d think that if you were able to recognize one lost cause you could recognize another, but apparently–”

“I’m not going to make you promise to try because I know, even if you don’t, that you will.” Felix wiped the tears from his cheeks and then looked directly at Jack. God, Jack thought, his eyes widening with wonder. He meant it. He really did.

“I’m going to let you down,” Jack managed. “I’m–“

“Stop,” Felix said, stepping right up to Jack’s side and reaching for Jack’s hand.

“Stop?” Jack paused. “Remember how you told me it surprised you that people didn't want to hear the truth? Listen to yourself. You’re begging me to lie to you.”

“I don’t want you to lie to me. I don’t want you to say anything,” Felix continued, “because, more than anything in the world, I want to kiss you.”

“You want to kiss me?” The simplicity of Felix’s statement did something to Jack’s voice. He hadn’t heard it tremble so since he kissed another man for the very first time. “Of course you do,” Jack added, attempting to hide how much Felix had moved him. He failed utterly.

When Felix kissed him, he ceased to care.