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If anyone had asked Jack where Daniel Jackson was least to be expected, a loud club would have been quite high up on the list. Especially one that catered to men that were a lot farther out of the closet than he and Daniel had ever been.
But nobody could ask Jack anymore. Jack had died almost half a year ago. Half a year of emptiness, and half a year of Daniel spiraling.
“Vodka!” Daniel ordered and the barkeeper put the glass in front of him within moments. And Daniel wasted no time in emptying it. It was necessary, otherwise he would have a chance to think. To reconsider.
He did not want to reconsider. He wanted to get wasted and then… whatever would happen, would happen.
The first glass was followed by a second, and shortly later a third that was also alcohol. It was not as if Daniel was picky – it had to get him numb and drown his thoughts. He did not want to be there for the part where he went on the dance floor. Nor the part that followed after. So he did not keep track of what he ordered nor what he was handed.
It was better when there was a pleasant nothing for him to get lost in until the hard part was over.
“Hmm, I can see you like it rough, don’t you?” The man he had followed to one of the bathroom stalls pressed him face first against the wall and whispered into his ear. “Don’t you?”
“Yes!” He whimpered, not bothering to even try shrugging out of the man’s hold. He could have, if he wanted… probably. Maybe not, he did not care.
Teeth found his neck and he moaned. It was not enough. Not as long as he could remember the gentle touches of Jack. His kisses. Anything.
“Fuck, where’s the lube,” the man muttered and let go of Daniel to rummage through his pockets.
“We don’t need it,” Daniel tried to entice him. “I like it when it hurts.”
The man seemed conflicted, his lust warring with caution. But then he found what he had been looking for and his mind was made. “Don’t worry, it will hurt you plenty even with it.” His eyes were glinting, and a shiver went down Daniel’s spine. Maybe the man considered this some kind of role play, maybe he actually was a sadist – part of Daniel hoped for the latter.
“Good.” He fumbled with his belt and pushed down his jeans so it pooled to his feet on the floor. Almost instantly he was pushed against the wall again and manhandled so the man had better access.
The promise of pain had not been empty. Without any further preparation, the man thrust into him and Daniel couldn’t even scream as the pain left him frozen. “You like that, bitch?” The man hissed into his ears and Daniel nodded through his tears. There was only agony as he felt the brutal thrusts that kept slamming him against the wall every time. “You like getting fucked like a whore?”
“Y-yes!” Daniel cried openly now, not that there was anything he could have done to stop it. There was no tenderness or care. It was exactly what Daniel had sought. He still couldn’t breathe properly and something was blocking his air. A hand. He was being choked.
Darkness was creeping into his vision and then a rush of oxygen he barely registered, completely lost in his orgasm.
The man pulled out and Daniel hissed. There were no further words exchanged between them, the lock clicked open and the door opened and closed.
He was alone, just him and his pain.
He forced himself the lock the stall again and then gingerly sat down on the toilet before his legs would give out.
The man had already turned into a distant memory – unlike Jack, whose disapproving gaze pierced him from the depth of his mind.