Fic: Not an Issue
Title: Not an issue
Author: baffledking
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters/Pairing: Jack/Jack, Jack, Rose, The Ninth Doctor
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Boom Town, couple of lines in Utopia and Last of the Time Lords
Summary: Jack pops in on Jack
A/N: For the Jack/Jack Fest. Kisses to becky_h and matsujo9 for betaing
They came back to Cardiff after dropping Margaret on Raxacoricofallapatorius. It was for Rose, really, hoping Mickey came back. Of course, for Mickey, it was two years later. He didn’t show up or answer her calls.
And they came back because she really did need new knickers and insisted early 21th century earth was the only place for them. Jack, on the other hand, insisted that underwear on the whole were ridiculous. At least those sensible white things that did nothing to entice and just hide things so puritanly.
“You mean modestly,” the Doctor corrected dryly in the middle of Jack’s rant on underwear.
“What’s the difference?” Jack asked, derailed and confused.
The Doctor tossed Jack a dictionary as he headed out the door with Rose, grinning a bit. “Figure it out. We’ll be back.”
“What, I don’t get to see?” Jack called, catching the dictionary and sprawling out in the captain’s chair.
“I’ll show you when I get back,” Rose promised as she waved over the Doctor’s shoulder to Jack.
“No, she won’t,” the Doctor shut the door behind them, shaking his head.
It wasn’t more than twenty minutes later that Jack heard the key scraping, opening the TARDIS door. He was under the TARDIS console, stroking the insides of the time machine affectionately, “Hey, Doc, still not seeing the difference.”
“And you never will,” said a warmly amused voice. That was not Northern accented nor female. It was -- and Jack thought he could be pretty sure about this -- Jack’s own voice.
Jack slowly slid out from under the console, fingers closing around a spanner protectively. “Really sure you aren’t meant to be here,” he said conversationally.
The other guy grinned, bright and warm. He was wearing a long gray coat that Jack recognized as being the twin to the one in his closet. Braces with a belt which was so tacky Jack almost had to comment. He didn’t.
The other Jack Harkness beat him to it, grinning, “Talk about what I’m wearing and we’ll discuss scarves, buddy.”
Jack shut up, fast. “You’re not older.”
Harkness took off his coat. “You noticed.”
“Where’s the Doctor?”
“Buying panties with Rose. Pink, by the way.”
“I mean yours.”
“My Doctor…” Harkness stopped, taking a deep breath. “He’s around.”
“He’s dead,” Jack corrected, face going ashen.
Harkness snorted, actually laughing at him and slipping off his shoes (brown with black pants and who dressed this guy?) “Hardly. He’s fine. You don’t need him, you know.”
“But I want him,” Jack said, honest.
“That’s not the same thing.” He slipped off his braces.
“Cl- is there a reason you’re getting naked?”
“Like you’ve not been picturing it since I got here.”
“…That’s not the point, actually.”
Harkness grinned, wicked and a bit harder than Jack knew his own to be. “What is?”
“That you don’t just come in crossing timelines for the fun of it!”
“Really, not an issue,” Harkness promised.
“Not an issue?”
Harkness grinned, curling his fingers into Jack’s shirt. “Not an issue.”
This was, of course, when Jack was kissed, firm and incredibly amused. Which, when the universe failed to collapse he returned because Jack, despite many insinuations from a big-eared alien to the contrary, was not actually stupid.
Which actually reminded him- “The Doctor and Rose are going to be back soon.”
“Really won’t be,” Harkness bit Jack’s lip, half-tripping him to the floor. “Trust me.”
Harkness smelled different; not like Jack’s own body odor or like his shirts, warm and spicy. He smelled cooler, like mint and iron and water. Jack heard himself groan, loud and needy but Harkness didn’t make a sound, as he bit Jack’s throat.
Jack lifted his hips, jeans dragging against the rough wool of Harkness’s trousers before Harkness pushed Jack’s trousers down and wrapped his warm, smirking mouth around Jack’s cock.
Any other time he would have been embarrassed at how quickly he came, biting his own lip against his shout, but he figured if anyone in the omniverse knew how to get him over the edge it was, well, himself.
He didn’t even notice Harkness tucking a little glass vial into his trouser pocket after Jack came. As it was, he was hazy enough that Jack wasn’t even sure how they got back to his room. He was sure, however, that he got fucked rough and hard enough that he was going to be smirking and sitting carefully for the next couple of days. He managed a lazy kiss before he fell asleep, completely and literally shagged out, fingers curled around his other self’s wristband. He didn’t feel a strand of hair plucked, and he never noticed the tiny needle stick. He didn’t feel a last kiss ghosting over his hair and he never heard the murmured, “Hey, thanks.”
An older, grayer Jack Harkness sat in the kitchen with the Doctor, drinking tea and watching Harkness sneak out of Jack’s room and out of the TARDIS, stepping out and exhaling painfully.
“I didn’t find any differences, of course,” Jack Harkness told the Doctor idly. “Not from the semen, hair, or blood.”
“Can’t know that,” the Doctor reminded him, kicking the other man’s leg under the table.
“Ow, ow. I know that. I know that.” Jack rubbed his shin, grinning. His temples were silver and that only made him look more like a movie idol, blue eyes bright. “Just saying.”
“Bad enough you’re here.” He didn’t sound like he was objecting. He wasn’t. Exactly. He was glad he’d left Rose shopping.
“Hey, had to come back to apologize. And well. You know. Fix it.”
“Didn’t know it would be a paradox?” the Doctor asked, dry and skeptical.
“Thought it wouldn’t be,” Jack corrected. “Permanent point and all.”
“That got anything to do with why I want to punch you? More than usual I mean.” The Doctor tried to tease, trying not to give too much away, same as he had since he’d found an older version of the man he’d left with the dictionary in front of his TARDIS, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Feel wrong, don’t I?”
“’Bout right. Just a bit.”
Jack gave him a sad smile. “Working on that,” he promised.
“So you came twice to apologize and that’s it?”
“Yep,” Jack grinned more honestly at that, and stood, “Now. Back to saving the world. Thanks for the tea.”
“What?” The Doctor stood as well.
“Just trust me,” Jack grinned, fiddling with his wristband. “See you soon. Well. You know.”
Another beep and the Doctor was down from three Jack Harknesses in his TARDIS to one.
He felt oddly bereft. “Musta hit my head,” he mumbled, wandering off to clean up the mess under the console. “Really hard.”
Author: baffledking
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters/Pairing: Jack/Jack, Jack, Rose, The Ninth Doctor
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Boom Town, couple of lines in Utopia and Last of the Time Lords
Summary: Jack pops in on Jack
A/N: For the Jack/Jack Fest. Kisses to becky_h and matsujo9 for betaing
They came back to Cardiff after dropping Margaret on Raxacoricofallapatorius. It was for Rose, really, hoping Mickey came back. Of course, for Mickey, it was two years later. He didn’t show up or answer her calls.
And they came back because she really did need new knickers and insisted early 21th century earth was the only place for them. Jack, on the other hand, insisted that underwear on the whole were ridiculous. At least those sensible white things that did nothing to entice and just hide things so puritanly.
“You mean modestly,” the Doctor corrected dryly in the middle of Jack’s rant on underwear.
“What’s the difference?” Jack asked, derailed and confused.
The Doctor tossed Jack a dictionary as he headed out the door with Rose, grinning a bit. “Figure it out. We’ll be back.”
“What, I don’t get to see?” Jack called, catching the dictionary and sprawling out in the captain’s chair.
“I’ll show you when I get back,” Rose promised as she waved over the Doctor’s shoulder to Jack.
“No, she won’t,” the Doctor shut the door behind them, shaking his head.
It wasn’t more than twenty minutes later that Jack heard the key scraping, opening the TARDIS door. He was under the TARDIS console, stroking the insides of the time machine affectionately, “Hey, Doc, still not seeing the difference.”
“And you never will,” said a warmly amused voice. That was not Northern accented nor female. It was -- and Jack thought he could be pretty sure about this -- Jack’s own voice.
Jack slowly slid out from under the console, fingers closing around a spanner protectively. “Really sure you aren’t meant to be here,” he said conversationally.
The other guy grinned, bright and warm. He was wearing a long gray coat that Jack recognized as being the twin to the one in his closet. Braces with a belt which was so tacky Jack almost had to comment. He didn’t.
The other Jack Harkness beat him to it, grinning, “Talk about what I’m wearing and we’ll discuss scarves, buddy.”
Jack shut up, fast. “You’re not older.”
Harkness took off his coat. “You noticed.”
“Where’s the Doctor?”
“Buying panties with Rose. Pink, by the way.”
“I mean yours.”
“My Doctor…” Harkness stopped, taking a deep breath. “He’s around.”
“He’s dead,” Jack corrected, face going ashen.
Harkness snorted, actually laughing at him and slipping off his shoes (brown with black pants and who dressed this guy?) “Hardly. He’s fine. You don’t need him, you know.”
“But I want him,” Jack said, honest.
“That’s not the same thing.” He slipped off his braces.
“Cl- is there a reason you’re getting naked?”
“Like you’ve not been picturing it since I got here.”
“…That’s not the point, actually.”
Harkness grinned, wicked and a bit harder than Jack knew his own to be. “What is?”
“That you don’t just come in crossing timelines for the fun of it!”
“Really, not an issue,” Harkness promised.
“Not an issue?”
Harkness grinned, curling his fingers into Jack’s shirt. “Not an issue.”
This was, of course, when Jack was kissed, firm and incredibly amused. Which, when the universe failed to collapse he returned because Jack, despite many insinuations from a big-eared alien to the contrary, was not actually stupid.
Which actually reminded him- “The Doctor and Rose are going to be back soon.”
“Really won’t be,” Harkness bit Jack’s lip, half-tripping him to the floor. “Trust me.”
Harkness smelled different; not like Jack’s own body odor or like his shirts, warm and spicy. He smelled cooler, like mint and iron and water. Jack heard himself groan, loud and needy but Harkness didn’t make a sound, as he bit Jack’s throat.
Jack lifted his hips, jeans dragging against the rough wool of Harkness’s trousers before Harkness pushed Jack’s trousers down and wrapped his warm, smirking mouth around Jack’s cock.
Any other time he would have been embarrassed at how quickly he came, biting his own lip against his shout, but he figured if anyone in the omniverse knew how to get him over the edge it was, well, himself.
He didn’t even notice Harkness tucking a little glass vial into his trouser pocket after Jack came. As it was, he was hazy enough that Jack wasn’t even sure how they got back to his room. He was sure, however, that he got fucked rough and hard enough that he was going to be smirking and sitting carefully for the next couple of days. He managed a lazy kiss before he fell asleep, completely and literally shagged out, fingers curled around his other self’s wristband. He didn’t feel a strand of hair plucked, and he never noticed the tiny needle stick. He didn’t feel a last kiss ghosting over his hair and he never heard the murmured, “Hey, thanks.”
An older, grayer Jack Harkness sat in the kitchen with the Doctor, drinking tea and watching Harkness sneak out of Jack’s room and out of the TARDIS, stepping out and exhaling painfully.
“I didn’t find any differences, of course,” Jack Harkness told the Doctor idly. “Not from the semen, hair, or blood.”
“Can’t know that,” the Doctor reminded him, kicking the other man’s leg under the table.
“Ow, ow. I know that. I know that.” Jack rubbed his shin, grinning. His temples were silver and that only made him look more like a movie idol, blue eyes bright. “Just saying.”
“Bad enough you’re here.” He didn’t sound like he was objecting. He wasn’t. Exactly. He was glad he’d left Rose shopping.
“Hey, had to come back to apologize. And well. You know. Fix it.”
“Didn’t know it would be a paradox?” the Doctor asked, dry and skeptical.
“Thought it wouldn’t be,” Jack corrected. “Permanent point and all.”
“That got anything to do with why I want to punch you? More than usual I mean.” The Doctor tried to tease, trying not to give too much away, same as he had since he’d found an older version of the man he’d left with the dictionary in front of his TARDIS, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Feel wrong, don’t I?”
“’Bout right. Just a bit.”
Jack gave him a sad smile. “Working on that,” he promised.
“So you came twice to apologize and that’s it?”
“Yep,” Jack grinned more honestly at that, and stood, “Now. Back to saving the world. Thanks for the tea.”
“What?” The Doctor stood as well.
“Just trust me,” Jack grinned, fiddling with his wristband. “See you soon. Well. You know.”
Another beep and the Doctor was down from three Jack Harknesses in his TARDIS to one.
He felt oddly bereft. “Musta hit my head,” he mumbled, wandering off to clean up the mess under the console. “Really hard.”