rubychan05: Uti, Utor (Jack/John Smith, Ten/Jack) [R]
Title: Uti, Utor
Author: RubyChan05
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up to Human Nature/The Family Of Blood
Summary: When Jack meets John, everything changes
Notes: Inspired by a fanvid I made ages ago....found HERE, and the ripped out pages in the journal seen around the gas mask people pages when Nurse Redfern read it.
Uti, Utor
“Doctor.”
“Captain.”
“Good to see you.”
“I’ve been following you for a long time. You abandoned me.”
“Did I? Busy life. Moving on.”
And oh, it hurts, seeing that steely anger in the Doctor’s eyes…hurts more than Jack has ever believed was possible.
But at the end of the day, he knows he deserves far worse for what he has done. For giving in to the weaknesses of the flesh and taking advantage of the Doctor in his weakest moment.
Because even if he didn’t realise in the beginning, Jack knew exactly what he was doing long before the end.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It starts on a cold Saturday morning, the chill September air pressing against him and reminding him of winter’s approach.
Jack shivers as he makes his way up the extended driveway to the school’s front entrance, pulling his coat tight around him. It’s not the military greatcoat he’ll be wearing in a few decades time, but it still attempts to billow out behind him as he walks, the charcoal-grey tweed no match against the morning’s stiff breeze.
Farringham School For Boys looks like a grim place to Jack’s already world-weary eyes. It’s in good condition, yes, and the grounds seem reasonably attractive from what he can see of them, but the place just seems to reek of loneliness and repression, practically screaming the fact that it is here that boys are taught how to hide their emotions and prepare for the armed forces and other similar forms of employment. And underneath it all is the familiar stink of prejudice, of richer students taking advantage of the less fortunate ones - Jack doesn’t need to see it for himself to know that that is what happens here.
If it was up to him, Jack wouldn’t be anywhere near this place. He’d much rather be out in the middle of action, taking any and every opportunity to make himself feel alive again, to forget that this meaningless existence is all that is left for him now. But Torchwood rescued him from the life he had made for himself here on Earth, where he had lived from drink to drink and gone home with anyone willing to put a roof over his head for the night. He’d joined them way back in 1899, seven years after being shot through the heart only to wake up again, twenty years after the Institute had been formed.
Sixteen years later and he remains loyal to them in return for what they have done for him, passing off admiring comments about his lack of aging as down to good genes. He doesn’t tell them that his parents won’t be born for another three thousand years or so.
So that’s the only reason he’s even here right now, ringing the bell for attention and shivering in the bitter cold. For Torchwood, and their fears of invasion. He doesn’t know which of the anonymous sources used by the higher-ups alerted Torchwood to the possibility - just that whatever it is will go down within the next few months, and it’s his job to make sure there is no trouble.
Unfortunately, with the school being an eligible fortress in its own right, the only way for Jack to do that is to work from the inside.
He gets the maid to show him to the Headmaster, where he spins a story about being the much loved nephew of the school’s main investor, and how said investor has promised him a job as a history teacher here. He resorts to threats of funding being cut off when the Headmaster hesitates, and is reluctantly welcomed onto the faculty with arms that, whilst not wide open, are at least not trying to push him out the door.
Jack knows there’s no way they can disprove his claim for now - his ‘uncle’ is on a six month trip to India to visit the colonies, and by the time he’s back Jack will be long gone. He acts appreciative as he is shown to the large room that is to become his, but inside he is laughing at these people’s gullibility, especially when he overhears two of the maids gossiping about his supposedly excellent financial status as they clean the floor of the corridor outside.
The other History specialist, a Mr John Smith who has apparently joined the staff only recently himself, took ill the day before Jack arrived and as a result he is put to work straight away, covering his fellow teacher’s classes until Smith is well enough for them to sit down together and discuss teaching strategies.
Jack dislikes most of the boys on sight; the only one who catches his interest is Timothy Latimer, but the boy proves to be too quiet and cowed to make full use of his intelligence, and Jack quickly loses the will to help as his various attempts to get the boy to admit to being bullied only meet with frightened denial.
Nurse Redfern, the only female in the school that would be deemed of a high enough station for Jack to show interest in, seems out of his reach. One of those women who are beautiful in that rather plain sort of way that somehow makes them much more compelling than the more stereotypically attractive women, Jack wouldn’t have minded bedding her at all if it hadn’t been for her rather obvious crush on the illusive Mr Smith.
Without even setting eyes on his fellow teacher, the Matron’s love for him is plain to see - by all accounts, Smith has nothing worse than a case of flu, yet Nurse Redfern seems to spend most of her available waking hours looking after him despite the fact that Smith supposedly has a maid here who is more his than the school’s.
By the end of his first week Jack is bored out of his mind, so much so that he is actually delighted to hear that Mr Smith is well enough to discuss teaching plans with him before returning to work on Monday.
Jenny, one of the many maids working here, shows Jack to Mr Smith’s room for their meeting on Sunday evening where Mr Smith is found to be nowhere in sight. Jenny gives the impression that this sort of forgetfulness is quite usual for Jack’s colleague before departing to find him, and Jack makes himself comfortable on the leather bound couch as he settles in to wait. He is just contemplating whether it would be considered rude to hunt through his colleague’s belongings for some alcohol to pass the time with when said colleague walks through the door.
Smith is a rather thin, upright looking man, whose black master’s robes suit him far better than Jack’s ever will. His black mortarboard cap sits almost jauntily on his chestnut hair, and looking at the man’s delicate facial features Jack wonders not for the first time if it really is possible for men to be beautiful as well as handsome.
Mr Smith seems shocked to see him, to put it mildly, and Jack is just thinking that maybe Jenny didn’t manage to find Smith before he returned to his room at his own inclination when the other man’s lips part in wonder.
“Jack…”
The man’s voice is breathy, but that doesn’t stop Jack from going on full alert as he realises that this man knows who he is. Neither he nor Mr Smith have laid eyes on each other since Jack arrived here and whilst it’s possible that Smith has just assumed who he is, Jack knows that the school has recently hired another Latin teacher who is also due to have a meeting with Smith at some point to discuss how their lessons can link together. For Smith to not only know exactly who he is but also speak his name in such an informal manner, Jack instinctively knows that there is more to this man than meets the eye.
He’s prepared to fight if needs be, but then Smith blushes, suddenly seeming to notice Jack’s expression.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to unnerve you, I just…it is Mr Harkness, isn’t it?”
Jack smiles, prepared to give this man the benefit of doubt. It isn’t the first time men have been breathless over Jack Harkness, although he wouldn’t have expected to get that sort of reaction in a repressed society like this.
“Yes, Mr Smith. I dropped by to discuss our joint teaching of History? I must admit though, you rather startled me for a moment there…”
“Ah, yes…you mustn’t mind me, Mr Harkness. Just a hint of déja vu, you might say - I have these rather strange dreams, you see, and you happen to look very much like one of the characters that appear in them. And of course, your name happens to be identical as well; remarkable really. But I do apologise…fiction like this is hardly the sort of thing to discuss on a first meeting, is it?”
Jack can’t help but relax at Smith’s awkward explanation. Extrasensory perception, although rarely reported during this era, is very real, and it is very possible that Smith just happens to be attuned enough to dream about Jack’s true self. But as long as his fellow teacher continues to think of it all as nothing more than fiction, Jack sees nothing wrong in leaving Smith alone.
But he still can’t stop himself wishing that Smith had just been attracted to him...he could do with some entertainment around here, and he can’t see any sort of mere working relationship with a prudish man like Smith providing that.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Less than three weeks later, and Jack has no choice but to eat his words.
Despite first appearances, John is fun to be around, and not just the times that Jack can’t stop himself laughing at the quaintness of people alive during this time, or at John when he makes an ass of himself with his typical dreamy clumsiness. He can actually have real conversations with John that mean something, despite the time difference, and Jack finds himself connecting with John in a way that he never has with Torchwood personnel, duty be damned.
For the first time since he first discovered he couldn’t die, Jack feels alive in a way he hasn’t been since he travelled with Rose and the Doctor. He no longer wakes up every morning wishing that there was a way to end it all, and it’s all thanks to John that he can look upon the world with new eyes and see that yes, there are still wonderful things for him to see and do.
Their Sunday evening meeting becomes a nightly tradition, and gradually the balance between conversation and teaching strategies tips until the strategy side of the meetings become nothing more than a ten minute sum up of any progress made by students in particular. Talk turns to issues such as politics and the effects of famous historical events and, once they’re more comfortable with each other, more personal topics such as family, life and whether teaching is what they’d always wanted to do.
Occasionally, John’s answers to these questions seem rather formulaic, and that makes Jack feel less guilty about the lies that spill out of his mouth. He finds himself steering the conversation towards things he can talk openly about, though certain topics manage to shock John into silence and repeatedly earn Jack the titles of blaggard, cad and scoundrel.
Jack would perhaps take offence at these names and stop telling John tales of his exploits with the various Earth women he has slept with, except that John’s eyes contradict his indignant outbursts, giving away his curiosity. And the more Jack talks about such things, the stronger his suspicions that John is not as experienced in such matters as his hmming and ahhing would lead Jack to believe.
One night, after a few glasses of brandy each in John’s room after the day’s lessons, Jack decides to test his theory. He starts off by talking about the local pub’s cute barmaid, but gradually talks it round until they’re suddenly discussing Nurse Redfern.
“I mean, what do you think? She’s a damn pretty girl, but I don’t think I have much chance with her.” Jack murmurs thoughtfully, feigning nonchalance. John sits up sharply, tension thrumming through his body.
“I should think not! Why, with all due respect to you Jack, she deserves far better than you!” He exclaims, his voice indignant. Jack smirks at John’s chivalrous instinct, feeling a familiar twinge at the sudden fire in John’s brown eyes.
“Like you then? You do know she’s head over heels for you, don’t you? I mean, the way she talks to you alone is clear enough sign of her feelings for you…you haven’t been carrying on behind everyone’s backs, have you old boy?”
John blinks, obviously flustered at the suggestion.
“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous Jack! I’ve never even…”
He shuts himself up, but the damage is done. Jack’s seen far too much not to notice John’s little slip, and now he knows for sure that John is as virginal and chaste as Jack first suspected. There’s a small thrill at the idea that he can’t quite squash, and he can only hope that his eyes aren’t as heated as they feel as they land upon John’s burning cheeks.
“Oh really? I suppose there may be a chance for me after all then…what do you say? Should I go to her room tonight and surprise her?” He says lightly, breathing in sharply as John suddenly launches himself forward in a bout of anger quite uncharacteristic of him, pinning Jack back against the couch’s arm. John’s trembling, his eyes shining jealously, but as John shifts unthinkingly against him Jack’s suddenly not quite so sure who John is jealous of.
“Don’t you dare.” The words are hissed, dark, and Jack’s belly goes molten and hot.
“Who are you jealous of John?” He asks softly, making eye contact and refusing to back down. “Me? Or her?”
He leans up before John can answer, claiming his friend’s lips before he even knows what’s hit him. For a moment John freezes, eyes impossibly wide and staring down at Jack in shock. But then the tension suddenly disappears and John is melting almost guiltily into him, mouth opening with a sigh as his eyes flicker closed. And oh, his lips are so smooth and delicate brushing against Jack’s, so innocent and so good that he can barely see straight.
He has his hand on John’s cheek and his tongue past his lips before John can think about what they’re doing, and he can’t help the answering groan he gives when John moans into his mouth. Jack’s hand is creeping between John’s legs when the other man suddenly snaps out of it, leaping away as if electrocuted. Jack holds out a hand in an attempt to calm him but John just backs away, the sound of the door slamming shut behind him almost mocking Jack for how it’s all ended.
Sighing, Jack leaves and returns to his own room. He can only count himself lucky that he runs into no one on the way.
Part Two
Author: RubyChan05
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up to Human Nature/The Family Of Blood
Summary: When Jack meets John, everything changes
Notes: Inspired by a fanvid I made ages ago....found HERE, and the ripped out pages in the journal seen around the gas mask people pages when Nurse Redfern read it.
Uti, Utor
“Doctor.”
“Captain.”
“Good to see you.”
“I’ve been following you for a long time. You abandoned me.”
“Did I? Busy life. Moving on.”
And oh, it hurts, seeing that steely anger in the Doctor’s eyes…hurts more than Jack has ever believed was possible.
But at the end of the day, he knows he deserves far worse for what he has done. For giving in to the weaknesses of the flesh and taking advantage of the Doctor in his weakest moment.
Because even if he didn’t realise in the beginning, Jack knew exactly what he was doing long before the end.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It starts on a cold Saturday morning, the chill September air pressing against him and reminding him of winter’s approach.
Jack shivers as he makes his way up the extended driveway to the school’s front entrance, pulling his coat tight around him. It’s not the military greatcoat he’ll be wearing in a few decades time, but it still attempts to billow out behind him as he walks, the charcoal-grey tweed no match against the morning’s stiff breeze.
Farringham School For Boys looks like a grim place to Jack’s already world-weary eyes. It’s in good condition, yes, and the grounds seem reasonably attractive from what he can see of them, but the place just seems to reek of loneliness and repression, practically screaming the fact that it is here that boys are taught how to hide their emotions and prepare for the armed forces and other similar forms of employment. And underneath it all is the familiar stink of prejudice, of richer students taking advantage of the less fortunate ones - Jack doesn’t need to see it for himself to know that that is what happens here.
If it was up to him, Jack wouldn’t be anywhere near this place. He’d much rather be out in the middle of action, taking any and every opportunity to make himself feel alive again, to forget that this meaningless existence is all that is left for him now. But Torchwood rescued him from the life he had made for himself here on Earth, where he had lived from drink to drink and gone home with anyone willing to put a roof over his head for the night. He’d joined them way back in 1899, seven years after being shot through the heart only to wake up again, twenty years after the Institute had been formed.
Sixteen years later and he remains loyal to them in return for what they have done for him, passing off admiring comments about his lack of aging as down to good genes. He doesn’t tell them that his parents won’t be born for another three thousand years or so.
So that’s the only reason he’s even here right now, ringing the bell for attention and shivering in the bitter cold. For Torchwood, and their fears of invasion. He doesn’t know which of the anonymous sources used by the higher-ups alerted Torchwood to the possibility - just that whatever it is will go down within the next few months, and it’s his job to make sure there is no trouble.
Unfortunately, with the school being an eligible fortress in its own right, the only way for Jack to do that is to work from the inside.
He gets the maid to show him to the Headmaster, where he spins a story about being the much loved nephew of the school’s main investor, and how said investor has promised him a job as a history teacher here. He resorts to threats of funding being cut off when the Headmaster hesitates, and is reluctantly welcomed onto the faculty with arms that, whilst not wide open, are at least not trying to push him out the door.
Jack knows there’s no way they can disprove his claim for now - his ‘uncle’ is on a six month trip to India to visit the colonies, and by the time he’s back Jack will be long gone. He acts appreciative as he is shown to the large room that is to become his, but inside he is laughing at these people’s gullibility, especially when he overhears two of the maids gossiping about his supposedly excellent financial status as they clean the floor of the corridor outside.
The other History specialist, a Mr John Smith who has apparently joined the staff only recently himself, took ill the day before Jack arrived and as a result he is put to work straight away, covering his fellow teacher’s classes until Smith is well enough for them to sit down together and discuss teaching strategies.
Jack dislikes most of the boys on sight; the only one who catches his interest is Timothy Latimer, but the boy proves to be too quiet and cowed to make full use of his intelligence, and Jack quickly loses the will to help as his various attempts to get the boy to admit to being bullied only meet with frightened denial.
Nurse Redfern, the only female in the school that would be deemed of a high enough station for Jack to show interest in, seems out of his reach. One of those women who are beautiful in that rather plain sort of way that somehow makes them much more compelling than the more stereotypically attractive women, Jack wouldn’t have minded bedding her at all if it hadn’t been for her rather obvious crush on the illusive Mr Smith.
Without even setting eyes on his fellow teacher, the Matron’s love for him is plain to see - by all accounts, Smith has nothing worse than a case of flu, yet Nurse Redfern seems to spend most of her available waking hours looking after him despite the fact that Smith supposedly has a maid here who is more his than the school’s.
By the end of his first week Jack is bored out of his mind, so much so that he is actually delighted to hear that Mr Smith is well enough to discuss teaching plans with him before returning to work on Monday.
Jenny, one of the many maids working here, shows Jack to Mr Smith’s room for their meeting on Sunday evening where Mr Smith is found to be nowhere in sight. Jenny gives the impression that this sort of forgetfulness is quite usual for Jack’s colleague before departing to find him, and Jack makes himself comfortable on the leather bound couch as he settles in to wait. He is just contemplating whether it would be considered rude to hunt through his colleague’s belongings for some alcohol to pass the time with when said colleague walks through the door.
Smith is a rather thin, upright looking man, whose black master’s robes suit him far better than Jack’s ever will. His black mortarboard cap sits almost jauntily on his chestnut hair, and looking at the man’s delicate facial features Jack wonders not for the first time if it really is possible for men to be beautiful as well as handsome.
Mr Smith seems shocked to see him, to put it mildly, and Jack is just thinking that maybe Jenny didn’t manage to find Smith before he returned to his room at his own inclination when the other man’s lips part in wonder.
“Jack…”
The man’s voice is breathy, but that doesn’t stop Jack from going on full alert as he realises that this man knows who he is. Neither he nor Mr Smith have laid eyes on each other since Jack arrived here and whilst it’s possible that Smith has just assumed who he is, Jack knows that the school has recently hired another Latin teacher who is also due to have a meeting with Smith at some point to discuss how their lessons can link together. For Smith to not only know exactly who he is but also speak his name in such an informal manner, Jack instinctively knows that there is more to this man than meets the eye.
He’s prepared to fight if needs be, but then Smith blushes, suddenly seeming to notice Jack’s expression.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to unnerve you, I just…it is Mr Harkness, isn’t it?”
Jack smiles, prepared to give this man the benefit of doubt. It isn’t the first time men have been breathless over Jack Harkness, although he wouldn’t have expected to get that sort of reaction in a repressed society like this.
“Yes, Mr Smith. I dropped by to discuss our joint teaching of History? I must admit though, you rather startled me for a moment there…”
“Ah, yes…you mustn’t mind me, Mr Harkness. Just a hint of déja vu, you might say - I have these rather strange dreams, you see, and you happen to look very much like one of the characters that appear in them. And of course, your name happens to be identical as well; remarkable really. But I do apologise…fiction like this is hardly the sort of thing to discuss on a first meeting, is it?”
Jack can’t help but relax at Smith’s awkward explanation. Extrasensory perception, although rarely reported during this era, is very real, and it is very possible that Smith just happens to be attuned enough to dream about Jack’s true self. But as long as his fellow teacher continues to think of it all as nothing more than fiction, Jack sees nothing wrong in leaving Smith alone.
But he still can’t stop himself wishing that Smith had just been attracted to him...he could do with some entertainment around here, and he can’t see any sort of mere working relationship with a prudish man like Smith providing that.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Less than three weeks later, and Jack has no choice but to eat his words.
Despite first appearances, John is fun to be around, and not just the times that Jack can’t stop himself laughing at the quaintness of people alive during this time, or at John when he makes an ass of himself with his typical dreamy clumsiness. He can actually have real conversations with John that mean something, despite the time difference, and Jack finds himself connecting with John in a way that he never has with Torchwood personnel, duty be damned.
For the first time since he first discovered he couldn’t die, Jack feels alive in a way he hasn’t been since he travelled with Rose and the Doctor. He no longer wakes up every morning wishing that there was a way to end it all, and it’s all thanks to John that he can look upon the world with new eyes and see that yes, there are still wonderful things for him to see and do.
Their Sunday evening meeting becomes a nightly tradition, and gradually the balance between conversation and teaching strategies tips until the strategy side of the meetings become nothing more than a ten minute sum up of any progress made by students in particular. Talk turns to issues such as politics and the effects of famous historical events and, once they’re more comfortable with each other, more personal topics such as family, life and whether teaching is what they’d always wanted to do.
Occasionally, John’s answers to these questions seem rather formulaic, and that makes Jack feel less guilty about the lies that spill out of his mouth. He finds himself steering the conversation towards things he can talk openly about, though certain topics manage to shock John into silence and repeatedly earn Jack the titles of blaggard, cad and scoundrel.
Jack would perhaps take offence at these names and stop telling John tales of his exploits with the various Earth women he has slept with, except that John’s eyes contradict his indignant outbursts, giving away his curiosity. And the more Jack talks about such things, the stronger his suspicions that John is not as experienced in such matters as his hmming and ahhing would lead Jack to believe.
One night, after a few glasses of brandy each in John’s room after the day’s lessons, Jack decides to test his theory. He starts off by talking about the local pub’s cute barmaid, but gradually talks it round until they’re suddenly discussing Nurse Redfern.
“I mean, what do you think? She’s a damn pretty girl, but I don’t think I have much chance with her.” Jack murmurs thoughtfully, feigning nonchalance. John sits up sharply, tension thrumming through his body.
“I should think not! Why, with all due respect to you Jack, she deserves far better than you!” He exclaims, his voice indignant. Jack smirks at John’s chivalrous instinct, feeling a familiar twinge at the sudden fire in John’s brown eyes.
“Like you then? You do know she’s head over heels for you, don’t you? I mean, the way she talks to you alone is clear enough sign of her feelings for you…you haven’t been carrying on behind everyone’s backs, have you old boy?”
John blinks, obviously flustered at the suggestion.
“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous Jack! I’ve never even…”
He shuts himself up, but the damage is done. Jack’s seen far too much not to notice John’s little slip, and now he knows for sure that John is as virginal and chaste as Jack first suspected. There’s a small thrill at the idea that he can’t quite squash, and he can only hope that his eyes aren’t as heated as they feel as they land upon John’s burning cheeks.
“Oh really? I suppose there may be a chance for me after all then…what do you say? Should I go to her room tonight and surprise her?” He says lightly, breathing in sharply as John suddenly launches himself forward in a bout of anger quite uncharacteristic of him, pinning Jack back against the couch’s arm. John’s trembling, his eyes shining jealously, but as John shifts unthinkingly against him Jack’s suddenly not quite so sure who John is jealous of.
“Don’t you dare.” The words are hissed, dark, and Jack’s belly goes molten and hot.
“Who are you jealous of John?” He asks softly, making eye contact and refusing to back down. “Me? Or her?”
He leans up before John can answer, claiming his friend’s lips before he even knows what’s hit him. For a moment John freezes, eyes impossibly wide and staring down at Jack in shock. But then the tension suddenly disappears and John is melting almost guiltily into him, mouth opening with a sigh as his eyes flicker closed. And oh, his lips are so smooth and delicate brushing against Jack’s, so innocent and so good that he can barely see straight.
He has his hand on John’s cheek and his tongue past his lips before John can think about what they’re doing, and he can’t help the answering groan he gives when John moans into his mouth. Jack’s hand is creeping between John’s legs when the other man suddenly snaps out of it, leaping away as if electrocuted. Jack holds out a hand in an attempt to calm him but John just backs away, the sound of the door slamming shut behind him almost mocking Jack for how it’s all ended.
Sighing, Jack leaves and returns to his own room. He can only count himself lucky that he runs into no one on the way.
Part Two