Fic: DW/TW Porn Battle Jack/Nine, rimming
It’s all Rose’s fault. Kinda.
The Doctor was out looking for a part, and the two of them were mucking about in the Wardrobe, and suddenly she happened upon a police uniform, complete with cuffs. Good natured teasing turned to innuendo, and innuendo turned to Jack chasing her around the time ship laughing, trying to get the cuffs from her. It was just a game really, because he knew she was the Doctor’s woman, but lord did he love to chase her. There’d been that pillow fight two weeks back, the one where the Doctor, in full Oncoming Storm mode, told them in no uncertain terms to go to their rooms after feathers had exploded all over the console. And escaping the Tariine Palace as it sank into the lava yesterday, he’d done a hell of a lot of chasing then too.
He chased her all the way to the console room, out of breath and giddy, just in time for her to round one of the struts. He lunged for her, arms outstretched, metal rail pressing against his abs, and that’s when it went all wrong.
Somehow she clicked the cuffs on him, one wrist, then another, and worse, it was around a strut.
“Rose…” He gave her the puppy dog eyes. He gave her the smile. He even did the whole thing where he looked up through the edge of his hair. That one always worked.
Except on evil British women.
“Come on, Rose. Don’t leave me like-“
And if it wasn’t the key in the door. He tried to look back over his shoulder, but couldn’t quite see. The door latched and the booted shoes stopped somewhere behind him.
“This your doing?” The Doctor asked as Rose came around Jack’s blind side. He couldn’t see the clever smile, or the way the Doctor was looking at Jack all spread out and bent over like an offering.
“He was chasing me.” She said in her best innocent voice, and Jack cursed under his breath. There was a lock pick in his left shoe, and an omni-key in his right, but with the bar right there he couldn’t even lift a leg up high enough to get either and Rose was hanging him out to dry.
“Oh, was he?” The Doctor dropped the bag of parts onto the jump seat, grinning at Rose despite his sober tones. He swept her up into a hug, pressing silent kisses to her face. She might be his lover, and from the 21st century, but the TARDIS had an extensive library of Timelord books… Rose could see exactly what the Doctor saw in Jack, and she was practically giving him to her lover.
“Well, you should go to your room where you’ll be safe. I’ll take care of him. Teach him a lesson.”
“Night then.”
Jack let his head hang down, listening to Rose flounce away. Evil, evil British women.
“Doc? Are you going to let me out of these?” He rattled the cuffs just for good measure.
“Maybe.”
Jack didn’t like the sound of that ‘maybe’ and tried to crane his head around under one arm, only catching a glimpse of the Timelord.
“That can’t be terribly comfortable.” The Doctor points out, and Jack nods, thinking he’s going to get out of the cuffs. Only, when the Doctor scoots up behind him, leaning across him, the leather and wool of his jumper shushing across the white cotton of Jack’s shirt, the Doctor’s hands don’t go for the cuffs. They go for his belt.
His “Wha-“ is drowned out by the soft click of the belt clasp being undone, then the hiss of it being dragged out of his belt loops. The belt lands somewhere and Jack finds he’s already breathing hard. The Doctor is Rose’s; he’s just- misinterpreting this. Somehow. He must be, because the Doctor might be unbuttoning his jeans one button at a time and huffing into the back of Jack’s neck like he’s a new drug, but it sure as hell can’t be what it feels like.
The jeans are skimmed down, slowly, so they fit just under the curve of his ass, and he lets his head fall forward, eyes clenched shut against how good this feels. The Doctor rocks himself against Jack, denim harsh and bracing, and either he’s hard or the sonic screwdriver is in the wrong pocket.
“What are you-“
“You can’t guess?”
Jack pants. This is ridiculous. His sex life is practically infamous in three of the sectors of the galaxy, and he’s reduced to gasping and straining against wrist cuffs like an Aldarian whore just by the feel of slightly cool hands and rough denim. A cool tongue licks from the knob of his spine up and behind an ear and he whines, high in his throat.
“You’re- teasing me?” He guesses, because there’s no way-
“Does this feel like a tease?” And he grinds, pressing Jack into the handrail in all the good ways.
“Oh, god- Rose?” Jack gasps, because the Timelord is pressing his shirt to the side with his nose, biting just right on the edge of his throat. It’s so possessive it makes Jack’s toes curl in his boots.
“Who do you think gave you to me?” He laughs, hiking up Jack’s shirt with his hands, fingers appreciatly petting his skin, caressing his muscles. The zip of the jacket rasped against his skin painfully, and Jack hissed, pulling against his bonds in reflex. They didn’t give and the Doctor chuckled, pressing an open mouth kiss between his shoulder blades as he leaned down.
Another kiss licks its way across the curve of his lower back, almost ticklish, and Jack gets a hint of where this might be going, only- only-
“Doctor-“
“Hmmm, Jack?” And there’s nothing, not even the lazy sexual pleasure in his voice, to disguise the sound of his knees hitting the metal grating. Jack presses against the metal bar digging into his groin, hissing in pain with a sharp edge of pleasure. This can’t be happening. It’s the Doctor-
Hands press against his ass, cupping the cheeks of it, smooth over the taunt skin. Jack keens, startled. He still can’t believe this is happening, even when he’s pressed apart and forward. His head falls forward, so all he can see is down into the TARDIS’ workings, between the grates and then the first harsh lick comes. The Doctor laughs, pleased at the noise Jack makes, and Jack shudders at the cool temperature of his torture’s tongue.
“Is this what you wanted, Captain?” He pressed his tongue into him again, feeling Jack writhe and pull at his bonds. This was delicious, the seductive man entirely at his mercy. “Flaunting yourself all over my ship? Don’t think I didn’t see you coming from the shower in only a towel last week.”
Jack laughed, with a touch of hysteria. “You’re punishing me?” He groans, throwing his head back against his shoulder, feeling the strain in his arms. Oh, he’s going to ache tomorrow, but it’s so good. The Doctor bites at the cheek of his ass, and Jack rises onto his toes in reflex. Before he can settle back down the Doctor is roughly tonguing him. He’s babbling, but he has no idea what he’s saying. Hopefully compliments. “Doctor, please-“
The Doctor leaned back amused, letting Jack gasp for breath, body hanging almost limp against his bonds. “Yes, Jack?”
“Please.”
“Please what?” He lets a thumb trace down, under the curve of his ass, against Jack’s jeans. The thumb comes back up against the now slick skin of Jack’s seam. Back down, and Jack makes a whining noise, and he presses hard just behind Jack’s balls. He goes up on his toes again, gasping, and the Doctor watches the Captain’s hands clench and furl on nothing. It’s nice. Very nice. He lets his thumb trace up, over Jack’s hole, almost lets it sink in, then up to the two dimples that nicely framed his ass.
“Please!”
He chuckles, traces back down. This time he lets his thumb circle Jack’s hole, feeling him writhe all the way up his body, and without warning he pushes his hand in between Jack’s legs. It’s easier to press two fingers against his prostate through the skin that way, and he’s pretty sure Jack doesn’t even breathe. Humming he leans back in, tongue working hard, and it’s only a matter of moments before the Captain is shuddering, on the tips of his toes again, thrusting back onto the Doctor’s tongue and fingers. He doesn’t babble this time, or whine; it’s a loud, keening wail that Rose can probably hear where ever she is in the TARDIS. He waits a moment, still as a statue, and Jack collapses, weak as a noodle.
He shifts his hand, carefully, thrusts his thumb in and he’s prodding Jack’s prostate from two sides and it’s like wringing a dish cloth. Jack goes as taunt as a charlie horse, and then just collapses, gasping like he doesn’t understand oxygen anymore.
The Doctor smiles at a job well done and stands up, taking a moment to stretch his legs. Jack looks debauched and maybe uncomfortable, hanging between the cuffs and the handrail, pants low and body half naked. It’s a good image, and the Doctor likes Jack like this. Spread out, ready for the taking, silent. He chuckles to himself and uses the Sonic Screwdriver to undo the cuffs, deftly catching Jack before he can collapse forward and fall. It takes a bit of work to get his jeans back up, but then the Doctor can just throw his insensate companion over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, ignoring the pleased grumble and flinch from too sensitive skin. He lets one hand ride up Jack’s thigh, so he can hold on, fingers curling into the high crease between Jack’s thighs and feels the other man shift against him, making a noise.
It’s not that far to his bed, and possibly Rose will be there, and after playing Jack like an instrument the Doctor needs a little seeing to himself. Good thing Jack isn’t going anywhere any time soon. Not that he can walk. He grins and sets off, a bounce in his step.