Hands (Jack/Ten, Jack/Ianto, Jack/Nine; NC-18)
Title: Hands
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Torchwood, Doctor Who
Characters: Jack, implied Nine/Jack, Ten/Jack, Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-18
WordCount: 745
Written for Doctor Who Fic Bingo: prompt - Jack Harkness; lover100: prompt #7 - Hands
Hands
Alone in the room under his office, Jack tried to get to sleep. Not a good day. He looked at his watch. Two hours since he lay down to get some rest. Two hours before the team would start their day.
He reached his hand down to his cock and started to stroke it. His fingers circling his shaft brought to mind other hands.
Ianto’s hands. Smelling of coffee and soap. Sometimes, though, of steel and gunpowder and dirt. Those times, his hands were desperate, clutching to Jack reassuring himself that they were both still alive. Not delicate, not coarse. Confident hands, taking what they wanted, wrapping around Jack’s cock. Demanding, desirous hands. Tender fingered hands touching his face as they kissed.
The Doctor’s hands, his first Doctor’s hands, were very different from Ianto’s. Working class hands. Broad palmed, thick fingered, strong. Shockingly cool, almost cold. Alien hands. Time Lord hands. Hands of a mythical godlike being discovered to be real. Those hands had been unsure at first, but he was a quick study. His fingers always found some new place to make Jack moan. Firmly those hands would grip his arms or grab his hips. Sometimes so tightly they’d leave bruises. Jack loved every one of those purple finger marks. He’d count them, one two three four five, to remember how ferociously the Doctor had fucked him. His Doctor was the Oncoming Storm and those hands were like thunder.
The Doctor’s new regeneration, well, his hands were amazing. Even better than Jack’s own. His fingers were long and lean like the rest of him. Graceful hands. Expressive, demonstrative. Not at all reserved like the previous one was. This Doctor would practically bound through life. Sex was like a wild ride. But before, they would lie together and those long fingers would trace every line of Jack’s body. Then, he’d stroke Jack’s cock until he had him screaming for release. He’d reach under Jack’s balls and tease at his ass. He would slide a deft finger up his ass then another and crook it just so and give Jack what he was begging for. He would smile widely, every time as if it was the first, that he could control Jack with just a twitch of his finger. When he was in one of his melancholy moods, he would lie next to Jack and run those fingers through his hair, holding him close against his chest. Jack would settle into the caress and they would both lie quietly, understanding the other’s sorrow.
He imagined him now, holding him in the crook of his arm, lying pressed coolly along his side. His hand would work its way down to Jack’s cock. His fingers would tease, drawing lazy patterns along his shaft until Jack was completely hard. Then he would wrap those fingers tight around the base of his cock and gently squeezing slide them up and down. He’d palm over the head and slick pre-come over it, the touch almost too much for Jack to bear. He’d slide down closer and watch as Jack responded to his hand. With his other hand, he’d cup Jack’s balls and play with them before the fingers found their way down, tantalizingly pressing along his perineum. When his hand was all the way down, Jack would hike his hips up, holding himself off the bed with his hands and elbows. He’d spread his legs wide and the Doctor’s finger would slip cold into the burning heat of his ass. He would slide a second finger after the first and Jack would warm them quickly until at last they were moving inside of him. Smiling, the Doctor would crook his fingers just so, all the while his other hand worked his cock. He’d twitch them and watch Jack strain and groan. Another long finger would find its way in until Jack’s ass was spread wide. Jack would be aching for the Doctor to fuck him, but the Time Lord would be having too much fun drawing it out until at last Jack could take it no more and his come would spill out between those long fingers.
Jack opened his eyes. Alone in his bunker, he smiled at the memory. He cleaned himself with a towel before rolling onto his side to catch a couple of hours sleep until morning.
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Torchwood, Doctor Who
Characters: Jack, implied Nine/Jack, Ten/Jack, Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-18
WordCount: 745
Written for Doctor Who Fic Bingo: prompt - Jack Harkness; lover100: prompt #7 - Hands
Hands
Alone in the room under his office, Jack tried to get to sleep. Not a good day. He looked at his watch. Two hours since he lay down to get some rest. Two hours before the team would start their day.
He reached his hand down to his cock and started to stroke it. His fingers circling his shaft brought to mind other hands.
Ianto’s hands. Smelling of coffee and soap. Sometimes, though, of steel and gunpowder and dirt. Those times, his hands were desperate, clutching to Jack reassuring himself that they were both still alive. Not delicate, not coarse. Confident hands, taking what they wanted, wrapping around Jack’s cock. Demanding, desirous hands. Tender fingered hands touching his face as they kissed.
The Doctor’s hands, his first Doctor’s hands, were very different from Ianto’s. Working class hands. Broad palmed, thick fingered, strong. Shockingly cool, almost cold. Alien hands. Time Lord hands. Hands of a mythical godlike being discovered to be real. Those hands had been unsure at first, but he was a quick study. His fingers always found some new place to make Jack moan. Firmly those hands would grip his arms or grab his hips. Sometimes so tightly they’d leave bruises. Jack loved every one of those purple finger marks. He’d count them, one two three four five, to remember how ferociously the Doctor had fucked him. His Doctor was the Oncoming Storm and those hands were like thunder.
The Doctor’s new regeneration, well, his hands were amazing. Even better than Jack’s own. His fingers were long and lean like the rest of him. Graceful hands. Expressive, demonstrative. Not at all reserved like the previous one was. This Doctor would practically bound through life. Sex was like a wild ride. But before, they would lie together and those long fingers would trace every line of Jack’s body. Then, he’d stroke Jack’s cock until he had him screaming for release. He’d reach under Jack’s balls and tease at his ass. He would slide a deft finger up his ass then another and crook it just so and give Jack what he was begging for. He would smile widely, every time as if it was the first, that he could control Jack with just a twitch of his finger. When he was in one of his melancholy moods, he would lie next to Jack and run those fingers through his hair, holding him close against his chest. Jack would settle into the caress and they would both lie quietly, understanding the other’s sorrow.
He imagined him now, holding him in the crook of his arm, lying pressed coolly along his side. His hand would work its way down to Jack’s cock. His fingers would tease, drawing lazy patterns along his shaft until Jack was completely hard. Then he would wrap those fingers tight around the base of his cock and gently squeezing slide them up and down. He’d palm over the head and slick pre-come over it, the touch almost too much for Jack to bear. He’d slide down closer and watch as Jack responded to his hand. With his other hand, he’d cup Jack’s balls and play with them before the fingers found their way down, tantalizingly pressing along his perineum. When his hand was all the way down, Jack would hike his hips up, holding himself off the bed with his hands and elbows. He’d spread his legs wide and the Doctor’s finger would slip cold into the burning heat of his ass. He would slide a second finger after the first and Jack would warm them quickly until at last they were moving inside of him. Smiling, the Doctor would crook his fingers just so, all the while his other hand worked his cock. He’d twitch them and watch Jack strain and groan. Another long finger would find its way in until Jack’s ass was spread wide. Jack would be aching for the Doctor to fuck him, but the Time Lord would be having too much fun drawing it out until at last Jack could take it no more and his come would spill out between those long fingers.
Jack opened his eyes. Alone in his bunker, he smiled at the memory. He cleaned himself with a towel before rolling onto his side to catch a couple of hours sleep until morning.