Anthro Puppy Blues

By K9


Shit, the light hurt.

Daggers of white lightening piercing Jack O'Neill's fuzz filled brain.

*Never* accept an invitation to a party hosted by anthropologists, nor believe one when he tells you that they're 'dull'.

Jack stretched painfully until his hand came to rest on another body.

<Oh my God! How drunk did I get? Shit, did I finally get Daniel to come take a look at my 'weapon'?> he wondered.

Opening one eye, he held his breath, and took a peek; instead of the soft features his friend Daniel Jackson, he found himself face to face with the square jawed, cropped haired, muscular body of...Jim Ellison?

Holy shit!

Jack had been amazed when he'd stumbled into Jim at the museum party. Not your obvious 'geeks get together' type, Ellison had remarked that he too had his own pet anthropologist, in the very fine shape of Blair Sandburg.

Another case of unrequited love, Jack had guessed with a smile.

Said anthro-puppy had dragged Jim along to this 'dull' party. So Ellison, and O'Neill had spent all evening swapping stories of troublesome, geeky, sidekicks for whom they both had serious, lustful urges, but who were both painfully straight.

Life could be *such* a bitch.

Suddenly Jim Ellison began to stir.

"Blair?" he mumbled.

"No such luck Jim, just me," Jack grinned ironically.



"What happened?" Jim's voice was muffled due to his face being buried deeply in the pillow.

"Ellison, if you don't know by now, you've been out of the game too long!"

"Don't be a smart ass, O'Neill, you know what I mean!" Jim shot Jack a glare.

"We got blasted, and fucked."

"You know, that's what I always liked about you, O'Neill? Simple, and to the point."

"Hey, I know my strengths."

"Yeah. Now, if I'd asked Sandburg that question, he would probably have launched into a lecture on male sexuality, that would have just destroyed my will to live, leaving me open for him to pounce with the suggestion of 'tests'."

Jack pondered for a moment, "Daniel, would have blushed first, stammered '', then he'd have gone into the cultural, and historical basis for homosexuality...using big words that I don't understand."

"Scary huh?" Jim chewed on his cheek, and frowned.

"Yeah. Oh my head," Jack groaned, and rubbed at his face.

"Anthropologists, huh? 'That's natural beer', he said," Jim sneered remembering Blair's innocent face, and gentle smile assuring him that 'green' beer was okay. "Shouldn't 'natural' mean that it *doesn't* leave you with carpet on your tongue, and wanting to smash your head against the wall?"

"Never trust an anthropologist," the soldier replied with a snort.

"I learned that long ago. Hell, I live with mine, I should know."

"You 'live' with him?" Jack's eyebrows climbed into his hairline.

"Yeah, drug runners blew up his apartment so he came to live with me..."

"..As they do.."

"Well...yeah. He's a manipulative little bastard, but hey, I love him."

"You do?"

"Oh yeah. Sexy as hell, especially first thing in the morning when he's wearing that kind of 'lost and brainless' look," Jim sucked in a breath, "I could jump his bones at times like that."

"So why don't you?"

"He's straight."

"Shit, Ellison, really? I'm so sorry."

"Thanks." Jim shrugged, and sighed, "What about yours?"

"He seems pretty much straight. He was married, but his wife was killed. He gets all the beautiful alien women falling over to get into his pants, I get the psychos who want to kill me, or the little gray aliens."

"Oh, you too huh?" Opening an eye Jim glanced over at Jack who smiled and nodded. "Well, except for the 'gray aliens' far, at least."

"I never exactly put any moves on him," Jack sighed, "But he always kind of screams *straight.*"

Jim laughed lightly, "And we don't I suppose? Mr Macho Army Guy, and his buddy Hunk-O-Cop?"

Jack O'Neill pressed his head back into the pillow, and laughed, "Yeah well, I guess we got 'em fooled."

"We're losers, Jack, face it. We're both in lust with straight anthropologists.....that's our lot in life!"

"Sexy straight anthropologists. "

"With blue eyes, and lips to die for."

"And a very nice ass," Jack groaned at the thought.

"Blair has a phenomenal ass," Jim sighed.

"Daniel too."

"But Blair's is a world beater. Tight, muscular cheeks, slim hips..." Jim gestured with his hands, mentally recalling those few blissfully hot days when even Blair is forced into wearing shorts, and a tee shirt, and when Jim Ellison becomes even more clumsy than usual for dropping things on the floor.

"Hey, Daniel's could match that any day, and he has *long* legs!" Jack protested

"Look, my anthropologist has a better ass than your anthropologist, okay?" Jim sat up in bed, and pouted.

"I doubt that!" Jack pushed himself up onto one elbow, and faced Jim Ellison down.

Suddenly, the two men were all over each other, hands grasping at flesh, hot mouths fused together, pushing and shoving to get into position.

"I'm topping *Jack*," Jim growled.

"The hell you are, your ass is *mine*."

"I'm bigger than you."

"Not where it counts, Ellison!"

"What?  Okay, where's the tape measure?"...




Blair Sandburg stretched, and leaned over to kiss his partner slowly, lingering a moment to truly taste those lips. Oh for sentinel senses....sentinel...Jim, oh Jim.

"What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking...about Jim," Blair smiled a little sadly.

Daniel Jackson sat up, and stroked Blair's back gently, "I know, Blair, but like we decided last night, we're destined to be stuck with straight macho men as partners!"

The End