Worst Case Scenario: Jack/Yana, R
Title: Worst Case Scenario
Author: Becky_H
Character(s): Professor Yana/Jack
Genre: Slash
Rating: R, I guess. Non-explicit sex.
Spoilers Utopia through LotTL
Warnings: Non-explicit sex.
Word Count: 550ish
Prompt: Set2Music Prompt 22: Your crusade's a disguise
Summary: What's worse than the end of the universe?
Author's Notes: Follows Redux. Requested by _Medley_
Ten minutes after Jack's decided not to break the Professor's neck, he's up to his arms in the guts of his rocket. Jack doesn't know how that happened, when he knows the thing's never going to fly, but it did and he is.
He keeps one eye on the Professor and doesn't try to talk to him. For one thing, at some point in the last few trillion years, he stopped being good at small talk. Another, and probably more important, reason is that if Yana lies to him, Jack's not sure his resolve to not break the man's neck will hold.
He grits his teeth and carries on his futile task, carries out the Professor's orders, and keeps his mouth shut.
It's cold here. It's not going to kill him, but it still sinks into his bones and makes him ache. The ache settles in his knees and his fingers, until he has to stop. Jack reaches for a rag, and while he's wiping the grease off his hands, he watches the Master. The Professor. Yana.
Whatever the name, he's not paying any attention to Jack while he tinkers around with his hopeless machine.
The light catches and gleams off the silver of the watch-chain. Jack realizes that maybe he doesn't have to kill anyone for the Universe to die on schedule, and to get rid of a year of unwanted memories. It's not noble, it's not good, and Jack doesn't care. He smiles and pushes away from the wall with a wince.
"What'd you say we get out of here and go find something to eat and drink?" He really is rusty, and the words feel awkward in his mouth.
The Professor considers Jack as much as Jack's offer and fingers the silver chain.
Jack puts on his most charming smile, and wonders just how much memory is in there. He's got no way to be sure. Jack'll risk it, anyway. After all, what's the worst case scenario - the end of the universe?
The Professor stays silent another moment, then nods his asset. "It has been a long day, hasn't it?" he asks, with an uncertain laugh.
Jack wants to know what he's uncertain about. He doesn't ask. They eat. Later that night, Jack finds out.
The Professor's hands are warm. He's a polite, considerate, giving lover. He meets Jack's aggression with gentleness. When Jack pushes, he falls back. He's unsure and tentative. He's soft. It's all a game for Jack, to get the Professor out of his clothes, but it's a shocking contrast to Jack's memories of the Master, of cold hands and sharp teeth and cruelty.
Jack doesn't know what to do with it. It stops being a game.
The bed smells like wool and brandy, like smoke and sweat. When it's over, Jack doesn't leave right away. He lies curled around the very, very human man longer than he needs to, and long after Yana's asleep, just sharing warmth and listening to him breathe.
Jack's eventually able to make himself leave the bed. He goes to the pile of clothes and sorts through them until he finds the watch. He turns it over in his hands and strokes his thumb across the worn silver surface.
What's the worst that could happen?
___________________________________
Continues in Distraction Gone Wrong
Author: Becky_H
Character(s): Professor Yana/Jack
Genre: Slash
Rating: R, I guess. Non-explicit sex.
Spoilers Utopia through LotTL
Warnings: Non-explicit sex.
Word Count: 550ish
Prompt: Set2Music Prompt 22: Your crusade's a disguise
Summary: What's worse than the end of the universe?
Author's Notes: Follows Redux. Requested by _Medley_
Ten minutes after Jack's decided not to break the Professor's neck, he's up to his arms in the guts of his rocket. Jack doesn't know how that happened, when he knows the thing's never going to fly, but it did and he is.
He keeps one eye on the Professor and doesn't try to talk to him. For one thing, at some point in the last few trillion years, he stopped being good at small talk. Another, and probably more important, reason is that if Yana lies to him, Jack's not sure his resolve to not break the man's neck will hold.
He grits his teeth and carries on his futile task, carries out the Professor's orders, and keeps his mouth shut.
It's cold here. It's not going to kill him, but it still sinks into his bones and makes him ache. The ache settles in his knees and his fingers, until he has to stop. Jack reaches for a rag, and while he's wiping the grease off his hands, he watches the Master. The Professor. Yana.
Whatever the name, he's not paying any attention to Jack while he tinkers around with his hopeless machine.
The light catches and gleams off the silver of the watch-chain. Jack realizes that maybe he doesn't have to kill anyone for the Universe to die on schedule, and to get rid of a year of unwanted memories. It's not noble, it's not good, and Jack doesn't care. He smiles and pushes away from the wall with a wince.
"What'd you say we get out of here and go find something to eat and drink?" He really is rusty, and the words feel awkward in his mouth.
The Professor considers Jack as much as Jack's offer and fingers the silver chain.
Jack puts on his most charming smile, and wonders just how much memory is in there. He's got no way to be sure. Jack'll risk it, anyway. After all, what's the worst case scenario - the end of the universe?
The Professor stays silent another moment, then nods his asset. "It has been a long day, hasn't it?" he asks, with an uncertain laugh.
Jack wants to know what he's uncertain about. He doesn't ask. They eat. Later that night, Jack finds out.
The Professor's hands are warm. He's a polite, considerate, giving lover. He meets Jack's aggression with gentleness. When Jack pushes, he falls back. He's unsure and tentative. He's soft. It's all a game for Jack, to get the Professor out of his clothes, but it's a shocking contrast to Jack's memories of the Master, of cold hands and sharp teeth and cruelty.
Jack doesn't know what to do with it. It stops being a game.
The bed smells like wool and brandy, like smoke and sweat. When it's over, Jack doesn't leave right away. He lies curled around the very, very human man longer than he needs to, and long after Yana's asleep, just sharing warmth and listening to him breathe.
Jack's eventually able to make himself leave the bed. He goes to the pile of clothes and sorts through them until he finds the watch. He turns it over in his hands and strokes his thumb across the worn silver surface.
What's the worst that could happen?
___________________________________
Continues in Distraction Gone Wrong