Overwhelmed: Nine/Jack, NC-17
Title: Overwhelmed
Author: Becky_H
Pairing: Nine/Jack
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mild D/s Timestamp meme response - written and edited fast and dirty.
Word Count: 800
Summary: The morning after Naked. Jack's overwhelmed. The Doctor helps him see that that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Author's Notes: Written for joanne_c. Meme response follow up can be found here.
When Jack wakes up he's sore in ways and places that he hasn't been in years and he's not alone in his bed. The first is just physical discomfort and if stretching hadn't brought him into contact with the second he probably could have shaken it off. As it is, the denim against his thighs and leather against his back remind him just why his ass is so sore.
When he groans and buries his face in the pillow, it's equal parts embarrassment and protesting muscles. He hasn't managed to move more than a couple of inches when a heavy arm flings itself over his waist and pulls him back in. "Going somewhere?" a voice, low and rough, maybe a little amused, asks right at his ear.
Jack would love, really love, to have a glib answer but he can't get past “um” because he doesn't really have a reason to be trying to sneak out of his own bed, especially when the Doctor's in his bed and Jack's been not so subtle about wanting him there for, oh, ever.
"Didn't think so," the Doctor tells him and presses his hand against Jack's stomach, thumb brushing down just a bit lower and Jack closes his eyes and groans because it feels really good. He's still embarrassed, can feel the heat of his flush and it's all that much more obvious in contrast to the Doctor’s cool hand.
"You know," the Doctor says. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were embarrassed. You're not embarrassed are you, Jack?"
Options, decisions and there is no way he can even think about lying with the Doctor's thumb sliding over the head of his cock, teasing the slit and then backing away. Maybe there's no decision to be made. "Not really. Just."
He stops, gasps, because the Doctor has just wrapped his hand all the way around Jack's cock, sliding and squeezing almost enough. When his hips push forward, the Doctor prompts: "Just? Just what?"
Jack shudders, pushes his face down against his forearm. The Doctor is still stroking, just enough off rhythm and too light to be anything more than teasing. Jack's response is so total, so complete, that he's already breathing hard and every breath ends in a soft whine. He wants to cry and he doesn't know why. He does know he doesn't want to answer that question.
The Doctor senses something is wrong and backs off. He frees his arm from under Jack and uses that hand to turn his face toward him. When he kisses Jack, it's gentle and warm and reassuring more than hot or punishing, and Jack can literally feel himself calming down under its influence, relaxing and unknotting.
He still feels raw when the Doctor pulls back, but calm enough now to admit: "Overwhelmed." It's nowhere near a real answer, but Jack isn’t lying or evading, he just doesn't have the language to be more precise. The Doctor must know that because he lets it go and lets Jack get away with it.
The Doctor settles Jack more firmly back against him, both arms protective and strong around him and there's no more teasing. There's just the slip and slide of a cool hand over his cock, as solid, strong and protective as the arms around him. The motion has the same hint of a demand as everything the Doctor says and does carries.
It doesn't take Jack long to respond to the sensation, for his thighs to tense and his balls to draw up close against his body, but climax takes longer. It takes his mind responding, accepting his safety and trusting that being absolutely split open and exposed is something that's not just okay, it's amazing, incredible. Fantastic.
He makes a soft sound when he lets go into orgasm. He believes in the Doctor. Himself. His safety with the Doctor. Then it’s just muscles tightening and breath forced through clenched teeth and the sudden release of his hold on everything and diving into freefall.
He lets the Doctor clean him up before he falls asleep. When he wakes up again he's not embarrassed and he doesn't try to ease himself away. Instead he rolls into the Doctor, slides his hand under the coat and around the Doctor's waist, yawns, announces that he's hungry and asks what their plans for the day are.
Author: Becky_H
Pairing: Nine/Jack
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mild D/s Timestamp meme response - written and edited fast and dirty.
Word Count: 800
Summary: The morning after Naked. Jack's overwhelmed. The Doctor helps him see that that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Author's Notes: Written for joanne_c. Meme response follow up can be found here.
When Jack wakes up he's sore in ways and places that he hasn't been in years and he's not alone in his bed. The first is just physical discomfort and if stretching hadn't brought him into contact with the second he probably could have shaken it off. As it is, the denim against his thighs and leather against his back remind him just why his ass is so sore.
When he groans and buries his face in the pillow, it's equal parts embarrassment and protesting muscles. He hasn't managed to move more than a couple of inches when a heavy arm flings itself over his waist and pulls him back in. "Going somewhere?" a voice, low and rough, maybe a little amused, asks right at his ear.
Jack would love, really love, to have a glib answer but he can't get past “um” because he doesn't really have a reason to be trying to sneak out of his own bed, especially when the Doctor's in his bed and Jack's been not so subtle about wanting him there for, oh, ever.
"Didn't think so," the Doctor tells him and presses his hand against Jack's stomach, thumb brushing down just a bit lower and Jack closes his eyes and groans because it feels really good. He's still embarrassed, can feel the heat of his flush and it's all that much more obvious in contrast to the Doctor’s cool hand.
"You know," the Doctor says. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were embarrassed. You're not embarrassed are you, Jack?"
Options, decisions and there is no way he can even think about lying with the Doctor's thumb sliding over the head of his cock, teasing the slit and then backing away. Maybe there's no decision to be made. "Not really. Just."
He stops, gasps, because the Doctor has just wrapped his hand all the way around Jack's cock, sliding and squeezing almost enough. When his hips push forward, the Doctor prompts: "Just? Just what?"
Jack shudders, pushes his face down against his forearm. The Doctor is still stroking, just enough off rhythm and too light to be anything more than teasing. Jack's response is so total, so complete, that he's already breathing hard and every breath ends in a soft whine. He wants to cry and he doesn't know why. He does know he doesn't want to answer that question.
The Doctor senses something is wrong and backs off. He frees his arm from under Jack and uses that hand to turn his face toward him. When he kisses Jack, it's gentle and warm and reassuring more than hot or punishing, and Jack can literally feel himself calming down under its influence, relaxing and unknotting.
He still feels raw when the Doctor pulls back, but calm enough now to admit: "Overwhelmed." It's nowhere near a real answer, but Jack isn’t lying or evading, he just doesn't have the language to be more precise. The Doctor must know that because he lets it go and lets Jack get away with it.
The Doctor settles Jack more firmly back against him, both arms protective and strong around him and there's no more teasing. There's just the slip and slide of a cool hand over his cock, as solid, strong and protective as the arms around him. The motion has the same hint of a demand as everything the Doctor says and does carries.
It doesn't take Jack long to respond to the sensation, for his thighs to tense and his balls to draw up close against his body, but climax takes longer. It takes his mind responding, accepting his safety and trusting that being absolutely split open and exposed is something that's not just okay, it's amazing, incredible. Fantastic.
He makes a soft sound when he lets go into orgasm. He believes in the Doctor. Himself. His safety with the Doctor. Then it’s just muscles tightening and breath forced through clenched teeth and the sudden release of his hold on everything and diving into freefall.
He lets the Doctor clean him up before he falls asleep. When he wakes up again he's not embarrassed and he doesn't try to ease himself away. Instead he rolls into the Doctor, slides his hand under the coat and around the Doctor's waist, yawns, announces that he's hungry and asks what their plans for the day are.