a little post-breakfast snack (Jack/11th Doctor, NC-17)
title: a little post-breakfast-snack
author: phinnia
challenge: 2011 Doctor/Jack Bingo
prompt: cooking together
pairing: 11th Doctor/Jack
rating: NC-17
spoilers/warnings: one really small one for the Lodger
author's notes: sequel to " dark dreams".
disclaimer: a wandering minstrel i, a thing of shreds and patches. i own nothing.
Jack stretched out, wiggling his toes in the coolness of the sheets and letting his eyelids flutter for a long moment before he opened them.
It was morning; the sunshine was spreading across his sheets. The Doctor wasn't there. but that was hardly a surprise, considering his tendency to wander off in the night.
Jack was about to drift back into a half-slumber when his nose caught a whisper of smoke. and he was on his feet and in the TARDIS kitchen before he realized it. "Doctor?!"
"Jack." The Doctor looked a bit sheepish, with his hair sticking every which way and his head framed by smoke coming out of the sonic toaster. "Erm. Toast. Don't suppose you're a toast expert, are you?"
"I can get by." Jack chuckled, picking up a knife and a loaf of bread off the counter and starting to slice pieces off. "Possibly a bit better than you can at the moment. What did you do?"
"Well, you know, omelette des fines herbes is one thing, but multitasking and not burning toast is another thing altogether. Either that or that sonic toaster's always been a bit fiddly - I forget which exactly which."
"I see."
They worked quietly together; Jack stacking and buttering piles of quartered, buttered toast, and the Doctor cut the omelette into equal pieces.
"Delicious." Jack murmured through a bite of food, and the Doctor shrugged the compliment off with a smile.
Despite the mundane activities they were engaged in, the air seemed to crackle between them, heavy and thick with tension.
"Pass the pepper?" the Doctor slid his empty hand across the table; Jack's fingers trailed across his, tracing their length gently - and then suddenly they were on the floor, chairs toppled over, lips sealed over each other's as they traced the contours of their faces. The Doctor's hands were cool and soft as they tangled in Jack's hair, stroking it away from his face; Jack moaned into the Doctor's mouth, his boxer-clad hips bucking helplessly against the Doctor's soft pyjamas. It had been awhile - too long for someone like himself who frankly lived to indulge in every hedonistic pleasure he could wrap his hands around, and this was the Doctor, which meant self-control was a laugh.
"Ohhh ..." The Doctor groaned, spiralling Jack's desire. He slid down the Doctor's legs and was greeted by a gorgeous pink cockhead peering over the waistband of the Doctor's pyjama pants, clearly happy to see him. He took it in his mouth and was greeted with more of those delicious moans as he sucked it back, hollowing his cheeks and letting his tongue play against the (apparently quite sensitive) ridges on the underside. By the time the Doctor's sweet come was cooling in his mouth, he was aching, desperate not just to rub off on the Doctor's leg; he was about to take himself in hand when the Doctor reached down and caressed him between thumb and four soft fingers, expertly jerking him off. Jack moaned, let his hips roll forward and his eyes fall back in his head, waiting for the tingles to flow from his toes all the way up to his shoulders that signalled a really good orgasm.
This one did not disappoint.
The Doctor licked his hand clean, causing Jack to shudder with renewed want, but his spent cock only twitched for the moment.
"You alright there, Jack?" the Doctor murmured, his lips tracing soft kisses on Jack's collarbone.
"Fine. Just fine." Jack replied, stretching with vigor. "What's for lunch?"
author: phinnia
challenge: 2011 Doctor/Jack Bingo
prompt: cooking together
pairing: 11th Doctor/Jack
rating: NC-17
spoilers/warnings: one really small one for the Lodger
author's notes: sequel to " dark dreams".
disclaimer: a wandering minstrel i, a thing of shreds and patches. i own nothing.
Jack stretched out, wiggling his toes in the coolness of the sheets and letting his eyelids flutter for a long moment before he opened them.
It was morning; the sunshine was spreading across his sheets. The Doctor wasn't there. but that was hardly a surprise, considering his tendency to wander off in the night.
Jack was about to drift back into a half-slumber when his nose caught a whisper of smoke. and he was on his feet and in the TARDIS kitchen before he realized it. "Doctor?!"
"Jack." The Doctor looked a bit sheepish, with his hair sticking every which way and his head framed by smoke coming out of the sonic toaster. "Erm. Toast. Don't suppose you're a toast expert, are you?"
"I can get by." Jack chuckled, picking up a knife and a loaf of bread off the counter and starting to slice pieces off. "Possibly a bit better than you can at the moment. What did you do?"
"Well, you know, omelette des fines herbes is one thing, but multitasking and not burning toast is another thing altogether. Either that or that sonic toaster's always been a bit fiddly - I forget which exactly which."
"I see."
They worked quietly together; Jack stacking and buttering piles of quartered, buttered toast, and the Doctor cut the omelette into equal pieces.
"Delicious." Jack murmured through a bite of food, and the Doctor shrugged the compliment off with a smile.
Despite the mundane activities they were engaged in, the air seemed to crackle between them, heavy and thick with tension.
"Pass the pepper?" the Doctor slid his empty hand across the table; Jack's fingers trailed across his, tracing their length gently - and then suddenly they were on the floor, chairs toppled over, lips sealed over each other's as they traced the contours of their faces. The Doctor's hands were cool and soft as they tangled in Jack's hair, stroking it away from his face; Jack moaned into the Doctor's mouth, his boxer-clad hips bucking helplessly against the Doctor's soft pyjamas. It had been awhile - too long for someone like himself who frankly lived to indulge in every hedonistic pleasure he could wrap his hands around, and this was the Doctor, which meant self-control was a laugh.
"Ohhh ..." The Doctor groaned, spiralling Jack's desire. He slid down the Doctor's legs and was greeted by a gorgeous pink cockhead peering over the waistband of the Doctor's pyjama pants, clearly happy to see him. He took it in his mouth and was greeted with more of those delicious moans as he sucked it back, hollowing his cheeks and letting his tongue play against the (apparently quite sensitive) ridges on the underside. By the time the Doctor's sweet come was cooling in his mouth, he was aching, desperate not just to rub off on the Doctor's leg; he was about to take himself in hand when the Doctor reached down and caressed him between thumb and four soft fingers, expertly jerking him off. Jack moaned, let his hips roll forward and his eyes fall back in his head, waiting for the tingles to flow from his toes all the way up to his shoulders that signalled a really good orgasm.
This one did not disappoint.
The Doctor licked his hand clean, causing Jack to shudder with renewed want, but his spent cock only twitched for the moment.
"You alright there, Jack?" the Doctor murmured, his lips tracing soft kisses on Jack's collarbone.
"Fine. Just fine." Jack replied, stretching with vigor. "What's for lunch?"