torch/who: jack/ten
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Title: Like Old Broken Bicycles Out in the Rain
Rated: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Ten
Notes: No real spoilers for Torchwood, spoilers for Doctor Who’s Doomsday. Also, this was audienced by hailpoetry, swallowedbysky, and rossaka because I needed lots of cheerleading to finish this fucker, and they are awesome enablers! Also, they are entirely responsible for the title, which I love.
lyrics in cuttag and title from a tom waits song, broken bicycle
Doctor Who : Series 1, Ep 11 : Boom Town
*rose and mickey hug*
Jack: Look at these two. Why don’t I get any of that?
Doctor: Buy me a drink first.
Jack: So much work!
Doctor: Worth it.
[ like old broken bicycles out in the rain ]
by kHo
“So. Been a while, eh?”
“Yeah,” Jack says, grinning that big wide grin that makes women and men fall to their knees in seconds flat. “Quite a few changes as well.”
“You work for the government,” the Doctor says, elbow on the bar, head propped up in his hand, shit-eating grin on his face.
“Except not.”
“Right, right. What was it? Above the police, beyond the government. What’d’ya do, have a PR agent whip that up for you?”
Jack rolls his eyes and then gestures with his hand from the Doctor’s bottom to his top. “And you’re not you.”
“Except I am. The parts aren’t the same but the insides are,” the Doctor says, swatting at his belly. Then he frowns and looks towards the bartender. “Weren’t you going to buy me a drink?”
“Right, yes, of course,” Jack says, and then he’s waving the willowy blonde over, smiling charmingly at her and saying ‘two of the same, and keep ‘em coming,’ and then turning back to look at his one-time chauffeur through time and space. “So how exactly do I know you’re actually you?”
The Doctor grins at him and raises an eyebrow. “Is there any doubt? What with the big blue box and the wavy lines and such?”
“I suppose there’s not,” Jack says, except there is. This is too good to be true, too exactly what he’s dreamed a few thousand times too many, and Jack’s learned to know that too good to be true became a saying for a damn good reason.
And just like that Jack knows it is, because no one but the Doctor can transition from happy and carefree to utterly and deeply serious in quite the same way. “I’m me, Jack. Really.”
Jack breathes a little easier, relief flooding his chest. He gives the Doctor a once over and finds himself smiling again. “Gotta say, the new you suits you pretty well.”
“I am a handsome bloke, aren’t I,” the Doctor says, easy grin back with just as much lightening speed as it had gone. “With more hair. And new teeth. Which took some getting used to, mind.”
Jack reaches up to trace the shell of the Doctor’s ear with his fingertips, leaning in a little closer. “I miss the ears though,” he whispers, putting his other hand on the Doctor’s knee. “I liked your ears.”
The Doctor’s eyebrows raise and this is exactly why Jack had instantly liked him to begin with. Nothing surprised him, nothing threw him, and he could roll with anything anyone tossed at him. “Yes, I suppose they did feature quite prominently in your fantasies.”
Jack just smiles back. “I wasn’t the only one fantasizing, was I?”
The Doctor doesn’t answer, instead picking up his drink and sipping it. “So. You’ve been busy.”
Jack laughs and settles back in his chair, leg pressing purposefully into the Doctor’s. “That’s one word for it.”
“I meant work-wise,” the Doctor says, eyebrow quirking. “No need to ask if you’ve been busy otherwise when clearly the answer to that is quite apparent.”
Jack tells him about Gwen and Owen and Tosh and how extraordinairy they are and then he tells him about Ianto.
Then he asks the one question he’s wanted to ask but never wanted to know the answer to. “Doctor. I have to know… is she… is Rose…”
“Here it comes. Was wondering when it would come,” the Doctor says, smile small and sad. "What do you think?"
"I think the only reason she'd be dead is if she'd become a cyberman, and you'd never let that happen to her."
The Doctor shrugs, lifting an eyebrow. "I can't control all things, Jack."
Jack laughs, shaking his head. "Alright then. If that's how it went down, you wouldn't be sitting here next to me drinking scotch and grinning."
"True enough."
Jack waits for the Doctor to continue but he just silently continues to drink his scotch. "So..."
“No, Jack. Rose isn’t dead.”
Jack closes his eyes and his fingers tighten on the glass of scotch in front of him. “Thank god.”
“Alternate universe,” the Doctor says, and Jack’s never heard his voice this way. Lost. Alone. Numb. He’s heard him sad, he’s heard him angry, he’s heard him happy, but he’s never heard him numb. It sends a shiver down Jack’s spine. “She’s alive, but gone forever.”
“Never say forever,” Jack says, bumping his shoulder into the Doctor’s and going for a light smile. The Doctor smiles back but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Always a chance. Hell, there was a time I thought you were gone forever, and yet here we are.”
“Well me, I’m never gone forever. Always come back, me,” the Doctor says, switching back to his couldn’t-care-less demeanor and jostling Jack’s shoulder back. “Never get rid of me. It’s my curse… or yours. Depending.”
Jack looks away. “Well. You don’t always come back.”
“You didn’t need me to,” the Doctor says, taking a sip of his drink.
“The hell I didn’t. I was stranded,” Jack says, feeling that old bite of anger that he’d thought he’d manage to shake loose come back with a vengeance. “I was right there, Doctor. I saw you disappear.”
The Doctor looked right at him, meeting his eyes. “I had to get Rose away.”
Jack nods. “And never come back, or check up on me, or see if I was even still alive.”
The Doctor smiles, laying a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I knew you'd be alright."
"Really,” Jack asks, wanting so badly to believe him. To believe the Doctor would never have abandoned him without a second thought. “And how is that?"
The Doctor gave him an eyeroll, which either made Jack want to punch him or laugh so hard he fell off the barstool. Jack wasn’t very sure which at the moment.
"I see the whole of time and space,” the Doctor says slowly, reaching down and squeezing Jack’s knee. “Everything that is and was and will be. You had a job to do, on your own. I knew, Jack."
Jack studies the Doctor’s eyes and decides that yes, yes, he’s telling the truth. He feels a little bit of that anger ebb away. “So you knew what I’d be doing before I was doing it?”
“It’s more complicated than that, but.” The Doctor waves his hand around, at a loss for words. “I knew you had a purpose. And I knew you had to do it on your own.”
“Okay,” Jack says, and it’s like the weight he’s been carrying around for the better part of way too long has finally, finally been lifted. Smiling he picked up his drink and drained it, slamming it against the bar and standing up, gripping the Doctor’s hand in his. “Wanna see my day job?”
“Day job,” the Doctor says, quirking an eyebrow up as he rises to stand next to Jack. “Is it limited to daytime, now? You’ve had it easy, Jack.”
Jack rolls his eyes and walks out of the door, not even bothering to look back to see if the Doctor was following.
*
When they enter Torchwood it’s empty, everyone gone home for the night. The lights flicker to life and Jack’s never thought of this place as empty but with the Doctor standing next to him it feels so lacking.
“So this is Torchwood,” the Doctor says, looking around with interest. “Lots of machines. Not quite the vast expanse of the last one, is it? Course, there’s also no cybermen or daleks.” He raised an eyebrow at Jack and cocked his head to the side. “One would hope anyway.”
“Kept it small,” Jack says, taking his coat off and throwing it on the chair behind him. Ianto is usually here at this time of night but Jack is glad that he isn’t right now. “Well. Relatively.”
The Doctor nods and smiles down at him. “Captain Jack Harkness,” he says, raising a hand to stroke a thumb down Jack’s cheek. “It really is wonderful to see you again.”
Jack stands close, locking eyes with the Doctor and breathing in his scent. He’s been hard since he first heard the whirring of the TARDIS and he’s wanted this since five minutes after meeting the Doctor for the first time. “Take off your coat. Stay a while.”
The Doctor swallows, looking away as he takes off his coat and drapes it across a chair. “Give me the tour, eh? Plenty to see here, I’ll bet. Weevils, you said?”
“Later,” Jack whispers against the Doctor’s jaw, resting a hand on his hip. “It’s been too long, Doctor.”
“I haven’t… we can’t…” The Doctor swallows again and steps back, into the wall, eyes a little wild. “It’s been so long since I…”
“It’s okay, I’ll remind you,” Jack says, smiling slow and seductive, looking up at the Doctor from under his eyelashes. He’s irresistible like this and he knows it. Can see it in the way the Doctor’s pupils dilate slightly. “Like riding a bike.”
“Eighteenth century or twenty-first,” the Doctor asks, laughing nervously but not moving away as Jack presses his body up against him. “I ask because I never got a handle on the multi-speeds.”
“We’ll take it slow,” Jack says, burying his nose in the Doctor’s neck, breathing in. Not human at all, sweet and pungent and a smell that only the Doctor has. “First you kiss me.”
“I do, do I?”
“Yes,” Jack says, lifting his head to meet the Doctor’s eyes again. “You do.”
The Doctor looks at him, studies him for a full minute before nodding, stepping forward and lifting a hand to lace in Jack’s hair. Fingers tangling in his hair and pulling it tight, tilting his head back just the right amount, grinning down at him. “Right then, I can do that,” he says, and then his mouth is on Jack’s and Jack can’t even breathe anymore.
The Doctor’s tongue is winding in his mouth moments later, every single inch of Jack’s skin crawling with electricity, like he’s a livewire, like he’s burning, fire licking the edges of his arousal and stoking it more and more and more with every stroke of the Doctor’s tongue. He moans into it, leans into the Doctor more, surrenders.
The Doctor pulls back and Jack’s not ready, he’s not done yet, and he surges forward, backs the Doctor into the wall behind him, plants his hands on the wall beside him, kisses him again. More heat and fire and passion that he’s felt in a long, long time. Should’ve known that the Doctor is what it would take for him to feel truly alive again. All he can think, between nips of the Doctor’s bottom lip and the minute shifts his hips are making against the Doctor, is finally. Finally.
“Not that this isn’t nice,” the Doctor mutters against his lips, smile stretching them against Jack’s and making him grin back, “and not that I’m adverse to you setting the pace, but I seem to remember there being a great deal more to this than bumping lips.”
“Bumping lips,” Jack says back, voice low and rumbling, barely there at all. “Is that what this is?”
“I seem to remember there being skin involved,” the Doctor says, fingers leaving his hair and stroking down his back. Jack suddenly hates the shirt he’s wearing because it’s dulling the sensation. This is Ianto’s favorite shirt, and Jack’s by default because of that, but right now Jack just wants to feel the Doctor’s nails scraping down his skin. “Skin on skin, as a matter of fact. There seems to be a great deal more clothes involved in this than from what I’m recalling.”
“Your wish is my command, Doctor,” Jack whispers against his lips, reaching up to unbutton the Doctor’s shirt, one-handed and slowly, because there’s nothing more that Jack wants right now than to run his hands down the Doctor’s chest but he’s not so stupid as to become impatient. Call it delayed gratification, call it foreplay, call it whatever you will, but Jack’s not in a rush tonight. Not with the Doctor. Not ever with him.
“Jack,” the Doctor says, and then he leans his head back as Jack’s teeth sink into his neck, a moan erupting out of him and making Jack shiver from head to toe. His fingers tighten on Jack’s back and he pushes his khaki-covered hardon into Jack’s hip and suddenly all of Jack’s hard-won patience has gone out the window.
Jack reaches down and yanks off his own t-shirt, unbuttoning his jeans as he kicks off his penny-loafers. Before the Doctor can even utter one more word he’s back on him, both hands working quickly with the buttons of the Doctor’s shirt and then spreading beneath it, pushing it open, over his shoulders and down his back and then the silk shirt is on the floor, getting dirty and wrinkled and it’s a shame really but Jack doesn’t give a shit because god, he has the Doctor here, right here in front of him, ready and willing to let Jack do to him what he’s dreamed about for years and years.
“Oh, god,” the Doctor moans as Jack’s fingernails scrape down his sides to his khaki’s and then just under them. “What’s taking so long, get on with it, Jack, come on, just… just…”
And Jack loves that the Doctor can’t finish his sentence, loves that he’s made the Doctor speechless, because the Doctor never shuts up. He never stops talking, never runs out of clever, witty things to say. But now he’s shuddering and stuttering under Jack’s hands and it’s the most powerful feeling in the world. He feels like king of the jungle and the Doctor is his prey.
He reaches down and rubs the heel of his hand over the Doctor’s cock, feeling it hard under the Doctor’s pants. He rubs it in a gentle, slow, methodical circle, and grins when the Doctor’s eyes squeeze shut and his fingers tighten on Jack’s arm.
“Tell me you want this,” he whispers into the Doctor’s neck, licking a stripe up the side to his ear, nibbling at it as he gets to it. “Tell me this isn’t just happening, that you want this. That if I give you this now, when tomorrow comes you won’t disappear on me again.”
“Jack…”
“Tell me or I stop,” Jack says, lowering his voice to a pitch somewhere between stern and pleading, a tone that makes Ianto’s eyes go wide and his hands start to shake. The Doctor just grins at him. “I mean it.”
“The next time I leave you Jack, it’ll be because you asked me to,” the Doctor says, and he says it with a smile and a twinkle in his eye but he means it. He means it, and Jack knows he does, so he kisses him again and unzips the Doctor’s pants.
Jack twists until his pants fall to the floor and then he steps out of them and lines himself up with the Doctor, foot to foot, hip to hip, chest to chest, and takes both of their cocks in his hand, staring straight into the Doctor’s eyes as he does it. The Doctor’s eyes are wide and open and guileless in a way Jack’s never seen them before and that’s when it hits him. “You’ve never done this.”
“With you, no,” the Doctor says, quirking the side of his mouth up. “I’ve had sex, though, yes.”
“No, with a guy,” Jack says, grinning ear to ear, because oh, the fact that he, Jack Harkness, gets to be the Doctor’s first anything, is the best present in the world. “You’ve never had sex with a man.”
The Doctor doesn’t answer, which is really the only answer Jack needs, and leans forward to kiss him, snaking a hand down to Jack’s ass and bringing them closer together than they already were and shoving his tongue in Jack’s mouth.
Jack takes it slow, as slow as he can with the sounds the Doctor makes, hot panting sounds, just the barest hint of noise, his name sprinkled in with gods and goddesses, words he doesn’t even recognize, words he thinks might be the Doctor’s home world’s language, and Jack just closes his eyes and breathes it in, tries to make it last.
It doesn’t though, it can’t. He’s wanted this too long, dreamed about it too much. He was already almost there before he’d even started, so when the Doctor stiffens and his head bangs against the wall Jack’s grip tightens and he strokes faster, says ‘come on, Doctor’ and ‘yeah, that’s it’ and ‘come for me, doc’ and then he is, the Doctor is coming, in his hands, on his hands, and then Jack is too, right there with him.
“You’re not a man, Jack,” the Doctor says eventually, resting his forehead against Jack’s as they both catch their breath. “Not just any man, at any rate.” He reaches up and runs his fingers through Jack’s hair, eyes half-closed and a sloppy, satiated smile creasing his face and making him look even younger.
“I’m not,” Jack asks, grinning back, cocking his head to the side. “Who am I then?”
“You’re Jack.” The Doctor’s smile is huge and it lights up Jack’s heart in places he’d thought were dead long ago. “My Jack.”
“I am yours,” Jack says, leaning into him, pressing a lazy kiss to the side of the Doctor’s mouth as he ran his hand down the Doctor’s torso in a soft caress. “Forever.”
Title: Like Old Broken Bicycles Out in the Rain
Rated: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Ten
Notes: No real spoilers for Torchwood, spoilers for Doctor Who’s Doomsday. Also, this was audienced by hailpoetry, swallowedbysky, and rossaka because I needed lots of cheerleading to finish this fucker, and they are awesome enablers! Also, they are entirely responsible for the title, which I love.
lyrics in cuttag and title from a tom waits song, broken bicycle
Doctor Who : Series 1, Ep 11 : Boom Town
*rose and mickey hug*
Jack: Look at these two. Why don’t I get any of that?
Doctor: Buy me a drink first.
Jack: So much work!
Doctor: Worth it.
[ like old broken bicycles out in the rain ]
by kHo
“So. Been a while, eh?”
“Yeah,” Jack says, grinning that big wide grin that makes women and men fall to their knees in seconds flat. “Quite a few changes as well.”
“You work for the government,” the Doctor says, elbow on the bar, head propped up in his hand, shit-eating grin on his face.
“Except not.”
“Right, right. What was it? Above the police, beyond the government. What’d’ya do, have a PR agent whip that up for you?”
Jack rolls his eyes and then gestures with his hand from the Doctor’s bottom to his top. “And you’re not you.”
“Except I am. The parts aren’t the same but the insides are,” the Doctor says, swatting at his belly. Then he frowns and looks towards the bartender. “Weren’t you going to buy me a drink?”
“Right, yes, of course,” Jack says, and then he’s waving the willowy blonde over, smiling charmingly at her and saying ‘two of the same, and keep ‘em coming,’ and then turning back to look at his one-time chauffeur through time and space. “So how exactly do I know you’re actually you?”
The Doctor grins at him and raises an eyebrow. “Is there any doubt? What with the big blue box and the wavy lines and such?”
“I suppose there’s not,” Jack says, except there is. This is too good to be true, too exactly what he’s dreamed a few thousand times too many, and Jack’s learned to know that too good to be true became a saying for a damn good reason.
And just like that Jack knows it is, because no one but the Doctor can transition from happy and carefree to utterly and deeply serious in quite the same way. “I’m me, Jack. Really.”
Jack breathes a little easier, relief flooding his chest. He gives the Doctor a once over and finds himself smiling again. “Gotta say, the new you suits you pretty well.”
“I am a handsome bloke, aren’t I,” the Doctor says, easy grin back with just as much lightening speed as it had gone. “With more hair. And new teeth. Which took some getting used to, mind.”
Jack reaches up to trace the shell of the Doctor’s ear with his fingertips, leaning in a little closer. “I miss the ears though,” he whispers, putting his other hand on the Doctor’s knee. “I liked your ears.”
The Doctor’s eyebrows raise and this is exactly why Jack had instantly liked him to begin with. Nothing surprised him, nothing threw him, and he could roll with anything anyone tossed at him. “Yes, I suppose they did feature quite prominently in your fantasies.”
Jack just smiles back. “I wasn’t the only one fantasizing, was I?”
The Doctor doesn’t answer, instead picking up his drink and sipping it. “So. You’ve been busy.”
Jack laughs and settles back in his chair, leg pressing purposefully into the Doctor’s. “That’s one word for it.”
“I meant work-wise,” the Doctor says, eyebrow quirking. “No need to ask if you’ve been busy otherwise when clearly the answer to that is quite apparent.”
Jack tells him about Gwen and Owen and Tosh and how extraordinairy they are and then he tells him about Ianto.
Then he asks the one question he’s wanted to ask but never wanted to know the answer to. “Doctor. I have to know… is she… is Rose…”
“Here it comes. Was wondering when it would come,” the Doctor says, smile small and sad. "What do you think?"
"I think the only reason she'd be dead is if she'd become a cyberman, and you'd never let that happen to her."
The Doctor shrugs, lifting an eyebrow. "I can't control all things, Jack."
Jack laughs, shaking his head. "Alright then. If that's how it went down, you wouldn't be sitting here next to me drinking scotch and grinning."
"True enough."
Jack waits for the Doctor to continue but he just silently continues to drink his scotch. "So..."
“No, Jack. Rose isn’t dead.”
Jack closes his eyes and his fingers tighten on the glass of scotch in front of him. “Thank god.”
“Alternate universe,” the Doctor says, and Jack’s never heard his voice this way. Lost. Alone. Numb. He’s heard him sad, he’s heard him angry, he’s heard him happy, but he’s never heard him numb. It sends a shiver down Jack’s spine. “She’s alive, but gone forever.”
“Never say forever,” Jack says, bumping his shoulder into the Doctor’s and going for a light smile. The Doctor smiles back but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Always a chance. Hell, there was a time I thought you were gone forever, and yet here we are.”
“Well me, I’m never gone forever. Always come back, me,” the Doctor says, switching back to his couldn’t-care-less demeanor and jostling Jack’s shoulder back. “Never get rid of me. It’s my curse… or yours. Depending.”
Jack looks away. “Well. You don’t always come back.”
“You didn’t need me to,” the Doctor says, taking a sip of his drink.
“The hell I didn’t. I was stranded,” Jack says, feeling that old bite of anger that he’d thought he’d manage to shake loose come back with a vengeance. “I was right there, Doctor. I saw you disappear.”
The Doctor looked right at him, meeting his eyes. “I had to get Rose away.”
Jack nods. “And never come back, or check up on me, or see if I was even still alive.”
The Doctor smiles, laying a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I knew you'd be alright."
"Really,” Jack asks, wanting so badly to believe him. To believe the Doctor would never have abandoned him without a second thought. “And how is that?"
The Doctor gave him an eyeroll, which either made Jack want to punch him or laugh so hard he fell off the barstool. Jack wasn’t very sure which at the moment.
"I see the whole of time and space,” the Doctor says slowly, reaching down and squeezing Jack’s knee. “Everything that is and was and will be. You had a job to do, on your own. I knew, Jack."
Jack studies the Doctor’s eyes and decides that yes, yes, he’s telling the truth. He feels a little bit of that anger ebb away. “So you knew what I’d be doing before I was doing it?”
“It’s more complicated than that, but.” The Doctor waves his hand around, at a loss for words. “I knew you had a purpose. And I knew you had to do it on your own.”
“Okay,” Jack says, and it’s like the weight he’s been carrying around for the better part of way too long has finally, finally been lifted. Smiling he picked up his drink and drained it, slamming it against the bar and standing up, gripping the Doctor’s hand in his. “Wanna see my day job?”
“Day job,” the Doctor says, quirking an eyebrow up as he rises to stand next to Jack. “Is it limited to daytime, now? You’ve had it easy, Jack.”
Jack rolls his eyes and walks out of the door, not even bothering to look back to see if the Doctor was following.
*
When they enter Torchwood it’s empty, everyone gone home for the night. The lights flicker to life and Jack’s never thought of this place as empty but with the Doctor standing next to him it feels so lacking.
“So this is Torchwood,” the Doctor says, looking around with interest. “Lots of machines. Not quite the vast expanse of the last one, is it? Course, there’s also no cybermen or daleks.” He raised an eyebrow at Jack and cocked his head to the side. “One would hope anyway.”
“Kept it small,” Jack says, taking his coat off and throwing it on the chair behind him. Ianto is usually here at this time of night but Jack is glad that he isn’t right now. “Well. Relatively.”
The Doctor nods and smiles down at him. “Captain Jack Harkness,” he says, raising a hand to stroke a thumb down Jack’s cheek. “It really is wonderful to see you again.”
Jack stands close, locking eyes with the Doctor and breathing in his scent. He’s been hard since he first heard the whirring of the TARDIS and he’s wanted this since five minutes after meeting the Doctor for the first time. “Take off your coat. Stay a while.”
The Doctor swallows, looking away as he takes off his coat and drapes it across a chair. “Give me the tour, eh? Plenty to see here, I’ll bet. Weevils, you said?”
“Later,” Jack whispers against the Doctor’s jaw, resting a hand on his hip. “It’s been too long, Doctor.”
“I haven’t… we can’t…” The Doctor swallows again and steps back, into the wall, eyes a little wild. “It’s been so long since I…”
“It’s okay, I’ll remind you,” Jack says, smiling slow and seductive, looking up at the Doctor from under his eyelashes. He’s irresistible like this and he knows it. Can see it in the way the Doctor’s pupils dilate slightly. “Like riding a bike.”
“Eighteenth century or twenty-first,” the Doctor asks, laughing nervously but not moving away as Jack presses his body up against him. “I ask because I never got a handle on the multi-speeds.”
“We’ll take it slow,” Jack says, burying his nose in the Doctor’s neck, breathing in. Not human at all, sweet and pungent and a smell that only the Doctor has. “First you kiss me.”
“I do, do I?”
“Yes,” Jack says, lifting his head to meet the Doctor’s eyes again. “You do.”
The Doctor looks at him, studies him for a full minute before nodding, stepping forward and lifting a hand to lace in Jack’s hair. Fingers tangling in his hair and pulling it tight, tilting his head back just the right amount, grinning down at him. “Right then, I can do that,” he says, and then his mouth is on Jack’s and Jack can’t even breathe anymore.
The Doctor’s tongue is winding in his mouth moments later, every single inch of Jack’s skin crawling with electricity, like he’s a livewire, like he’s burning, fire licking the edges of his arousal and stoking it more and more and more with every stroke of the Doctor’s tongue. He moans into it, leans into the Doctor more, surrenders.
The Doctor pulls back and Jack’s not ready, he’s not done yet, and he surges forward, backs the Doctor into the wall behind him, plants his hands on the wall beside him, kisses him again. More heat and fire and passion that he’s felt in a long, long time. Should’ve known that the Doctor is what it would take for him to feel truly alive again. All he can think, between nips of the Doctor’s bottom lip and the minute shifts his hips are making against the Doctor, is finally. Finally.
“Not that this isn’t nice,” the Doctor mutters against his lips, smile stretching them against Jack’s and making him grin back, “and not that I’m adverse to you setting the pace, but I seem to remember there being a great deal more to this than bumping lips.”
“Bumping lips,” Jack says back, voice low and rumbling, barely there at all. “Is that what this is?”
“I seem to remember there being skin involved,” the Doctor says, fingers leaving his hair and stroking down his back. Jack suddenly hates the shirt he’s wearing because it’s dulling the sensation. This is Ianto’s favorite shirt, and Jack’s by default because of that, but right now Jack just wants to feel the Doctor’s nails scraping down his skin. “Skin on skin, as a matter of fact. There seems to be a great deal more clothes involved in this than from what I’m recalling.”
“Your wish is my command, Doctor,” Jack whispers against his lips, reaching up to unbutton the Doctor’s shirt, one-handed and slowly, because there’s nothing more that Jack wants right now than to run his hands down the Doctor’s chest but he’s not so stupid as to become impatient. Call it delayed gratification, call it foreplay, call it whatever you will, but Jack’s not in a rush tonight. Not with the Doctor. Not ever with him.
“Jack,” the Doctor says, and then he leans his head back as Jack’s teeth sink into his neck, a moan erupting out of him and making Jack shiver from head to toe. His fingers tighten on Jack’s back and he pushes his khaki-covered hardon into Jack’s hip and suddenly all of Jack’s hard-won patience has gone out the window.
Jack reaches down and yanks off his own t-shirt, unbuttoning his jeans as he kicks off his penny-loafers. Before the Doctor can even utter one more word he’s back on him, both hands working quickly with the buttons of the Doctor’s shirt and then spreading beneath it, pushing it open, over his shoulders and down his back and then the silk shirt is on the floor, getting dirty and wrinkled and it’s a shame really but Jack doesn’t give a shit because god, he has the Doctor here, right here in front of him, ready and willing to let Jack do to him what he’s dreamed about for years and years.
“Oh, god,” the Doctor moans as Jack’s fingernails scrape down his sides to his khaki’s and then just under them. “What’s taking so long, get on with it, Jack, come on, just… just…”
And Jack loves that the Doctor can’t finish his sentence, loves that he’s made the Doctor speechless, because the Doctor never shuts up. He never stops talking, never runs out of clever, witty things to say. But now he’s shuddering and stuttering under Jack’s hands and it’s the most powerful feeling in the world. He feels like king of the jungle and the Doctor is his prey.
He reaches down and rubs the heel of his hand over the Doctor’s cock, feeling it hard under the Doctor’s pants. He rubs it in a gentle, slow, methodical circle, and grins when the Doctor’s eyes squeeze shut and his fingers tighten on Jack’s arm.
“Tell me you want this,” he whispers into the Doctor’s neck, licking a stripe up the side to his ear, nibbling at it as he gets to it. “Tell me this isn’t just happening, that you want this. That if I give you this now, when tomorrow comes you won’t disappear on me again.”
“Jack…”
“Tell me or I stop,” Jack says, lowering his voice to a pitch somewhere between stern and pleading, a tone that makes Ianto’s eyes go wide and his hands start to shake. The Doctor just grins at him. “I mean it.”
“The next time I leave you Jack, it’ll be because you asked me to,” the Doctor says, and he says it with a smile and a twinkle in his eye but he means it. He means it, and Jack knows he does, so he kisses him again and unzips the Doctor’s pants.
Jack twists until his pants fall to the floor and then he steps out of them and lines himself up with the Doctor, foot to foot, hip to hip, chest to chest, and takes both of their cocks in his hand, staring straight into the Doctor’s eyes as he does it. The Doctor’s eyes are wide and open and guileless in a way Jack’s never seen them before and that’s when it hits him. “You’ve never done this.”
“With you, no,” the Doctor says, quirking the side of his mouth up. “I’ve had sex, though, yes.”
“No, with a guy,” Jack says, grinning ear to ear, because oh, the fact that he, Jack Harkness, gets to be the Doctor’s first anything, is the best present in the world. “You’ve never had sex with a man.”
The Doctor doesn’t answer, which is really the only answer Jack needs, and leans forward to kiss him, snaking a hand down to Jack’s ass and bringing them closer together than they already were and shoving his tongue in Jack’s mouth.
Jack takes it slow, as slow as he can with the sounds the Doctor makes, hot panting sounds, just the barest hint of noise, his name sprinkled in with gods and goddesses, words he doesn’t even recognize, words he thinks might be the Doctor’s home world’s language, and Jack just closes his eyes and breathes it in, tries to make it last.
It doesn’t though, it can’t. He’s wanted this too long, dreamed about it too much. He was already almost there before he’d even started, so when the Doctor stiffens and his head bangs against the wall Jack’s grip tightens and he strokes faster, says ‘come on, Doctor’ and ‘yeah, that’s it’ and ‘come for me, doc’ and then he is, the Doctor is coming, in his hands, on his hands, and then Jack is too, right there with him.
“You’re not a man, Jack,” the Doctor says eventually, resting his forehead against Jack’s as they both catch their breath. “Not just any man, at any rate.” He reaches up and runs his fingers through Jack’s hair, eyes half-closed and a sloppy, satiated smile creasing his face and making him look even younger.
“I’m not,” Jack asks, grinning back, cocking his head to the side. “Who am I then?”
“You’re Jack.” The Doctor’s smile is huge and it lights up Jack’s heart in places he’d thought were dead long ago. “My Jack.”
“I am yours,” Jack says, leaning into him, pressing a lazy kiss to the side of the Doctor’s mouth as he ran his hand down the Doctor’s torso in a soft caress. “Forever.”