FIC: the eyes are new, the look is old (female!Doctor/Jack) [R]
Ahem. Yes, after complaining about not being able to write all this time, today this just dropped straight out of my brain and onto the page. No, I have no idea how this happened either ...
Title: the eyes are new, the look is old
Pairing: female!Doctor/Jack Harkness, previous Eleventh Doctor/Jack Harkness
Rating: R
Summary: "Bugger, this is uncomfortable. Never mind the shoes - my braces are cutting into my breasts, and my pants are designed for an anatomy I no longer possess." She clawed at her throat. "And I'm never wearing bow-ties again."
A/N: Written for Porn Battle XV and the prompt: "any Doctor/Jack, ties". Many thanks to wojelah and fluffyllama for the beta! 2,958 words.
Also posted here at AO3. Comments welcome in either place!
~*~
A first breath, drawn deep: Life surged back into him, and Jack jerked half upright with its force. His lungs revolted, and he bent forward, coughing out the dust and debris he'd inadvertently inhaled.
Finally he was able to breathe without struggle, and he took stock of himself. His greatcoat was in tatters, and the rest of his clothes had fared better only thanks to the heavy wool shielding them. Jack disentangled himself from the remains of his ruined coat and struggled to his feet, looking around.
The explosion had ripped the main generator to pieces. No one anywhere inside the factory could have survived it. Thank God he and the Doctor had managed to get everyone else out in time.
The Doctor.
Jack stumbled forward, his eyes scanning the debris, and found the crumpled heap almost where he'd last seen the Doctor, a little further from the centre of the explosion. Right. They'd stayed back, trying to hold back the imminent explosion for as long as possible, but eventually he'd pushed the Doctor ahead, knowing he would survive even what the Doctor couldn't.
Jack bent over the Doctor's still form. His tweed jacket had fared better than Jack's coat, but he seemed small and broken, the shape of him subtly wrong inside his clothes. His hair was covered in dust, but was it longer than it had been?
Jack's throat tightened. Regeneration. He'd known three of the Doctor's incarnations, and now it would be a fourth.
He wasn't ready to lose him, this awkward, intense, childish, ancient being who'd finally, finally come back into Jack's life. Wasn't ready to lose what they'd shared, and worse, wasn't ready to see the Doctor take another step toward that inevitable, final death that awaited everyone except him.
He shook the thought. No time for that now.
Jack insinuated a hand under the Doctor's chest to turn him onto his back, and stilled when he encountered breasts. Oh. Why was he even surprised? Clearly he'd spent too much time in the 20th and 21st century. He shifted his hand a little lower, turning the Doctor over, into his arms. His face - her face? Jack had no idea how such things worked among Time Lords - was dirty, and Jack brushed away some pieces of debris clinging to the skin.
He patted the Doctor's cheek, not sure if he should be trying to wake him. "Doc? Are you okay?"
In his arms, the Doctor suddenly bent forward, coughing out golden energy. He looked almost surprised at the dissipating sparks, lifting a hand into them, and then abruptly pulled himself out of Jack's arms into a sitting position.
Jack held himself back. The Doctor was prickly enough under normal circumstances, rarely willing to accept support; no telling how he'd react when he'd just ...
"Blast it. I regenerated," the Doctor croaked, then blinked, and felt his throat. He scrunched his nose several times, making him look absurdly like a bunny wiggling its nose, then looked down on himself. He ran his hands through his now-black hair and pulled at the chin-length strands, felt his knees for some reason, then lifted both his breasts in his hands, looked down at them, and then let them fall again with a shrug. "Again. Bugger," he said eloquently, and then the brief burst of energy seemed to leave him, and he hunched in on himself.
"You okay?" Jack asked again.
"Yeah, yeah." The Doctor rubbed his eyes roughly, smearing dirt around. "New eyes! And all my insides are changed," he complained, poking at his ribs next. "I have new bones! I was just fine with the old ones, you know."
Me too, Jack didn't say. Instead, he let his eyes travel over the Doctor's new body. He was almost as tall as he'd been before, but a little more slender now. The curve of the hips was new, too, in place of the sharp bony frame he'd known so well. Every freckle, every dimple and dip - all gone now. "I like the new bones," Jack said lightly. "So, I gather this comes with all the right parts?"
"Don't try that with me." The Doctor's voice was a harsh snap, and Jack almost flinched.
He mimed innocence instead. "What?"
A scowl, incongruously reminiscent of the first Doctor Jack had known. "You always flirt when you don't know what to say."
"I always flirt," Jack retorted.
The Doctor threw up his hands. "You can ask, you know."
Jack swallowed, buying time. He'd never known the Doctor to invite personal questions. When he finally opened his mouth, the best he could manage was, "So how does this work?" It wasn't much of a surprise that a species capable of changing bodies could change all aspects of their body, but that didn't say much about the person inside. "Are you still male, or ...?"
The Doctor's eyes were all too knowing. "New body. It's my body, same as the ones before. I'm comfortable in it. It's me." A shrug. "I was a man. Now I'm a woman. So?"
"So," Jack said inanely, then stopped.
The Doctor looked like she might laugh at him. Then she suddenly bent forward again, coughing convulsively.
"Blast it," she managed eventually, her voice hoarse. "I need to sleep this off. Let's get out of here." She surged to her feet, and stumbled, catching herself against Jack's arm with a grimace. "Shoes."
"Huh?"
The Doctor lifted a foot, scowled at it. "They're too large." She pulled at one of the straps of her braces, letting it snap back against her chest, and flinched. "Ouch. I need new clothes."
Jack looked down on himself. "I think we both do."
The Doctor looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Oh. You lost your coat." She rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. "Bugger, this is uncomfortable. Never mind the shoes - my braces are cutting into my breasts, and my pants are designed for an anatomy I no longer possess." She clawed at her throat. "And I'm never wearing bow-ties again."
Jack laughed a little, absurdly cheered. "The perils of regeneration."
A tired shake of her head sent the Doctor's hair flying, and she impatiently brushed it out of her face. "Last time I had to run around in the tatters of my old suit for ages. I really don't want to walk around in this any longer than I have to." Suddenly there was a wide grin on her face, and she reached for Jack's hand, pulling him along. "To the TARDIS!"
And off they were.
Her running was a bit awkward in shoes too big, and she was holding her free arm under her breasts to support them, but they were running together, hand in hand. Whatever else might have changed between them, with this new Doctor, there was still this.
When they reached the TARDIS door and tumbled inside, an iron band seemed to have burst and fallen away from Jack's heart.
~*~
She was starting to stir. Jack shifted on the bed beside the Doctor, waiting to see if she'd wake up properly this time.
The Doctor had collapsed almost the moment they'd entered the TARDIS, and Jack had carried her to her bedroom. Well, his old bedroom - she might want a new one for a new incarnation. He'd wiped the dust from her face, her hair, and her hands, had taken off her shoes, her braces, her trousers, and her shirt, and the bow-tie of course, but had left the ill-fitting pants and vest. The Doctor's previous incarnation hadn't been shy about nudity with him, but he wasn't going to risk stepping on one the Doctor's invisible boundaries, not when he had no idea how they might have changed. At least he could be here, with her. For now, anyway.
She'd slept restlessly, occasionally jerking up to cough out another bit of golden energy - less each time - and once, she'd jumped from the bed, stumbled out into the corridor, looked around wild-eyed, and then promptly collapsed again.
He'd watched her, getting to know her new face, unable to bring himself to look away, not sure how long this might take and thankful he needed so much less sleep than he had when he'd been mortal.
Now the Doctor sat up abruptly, like a puppet pulled up on strings - a movement that would have seemed unnatural in a human, but was perfectly normal for a Time Lord body. When she looked at Jack, her eyes were clear, but he couldn't read her expression at all.
Then she looked down at herself, and grimaced at the vest stretching over her breasts. "Right. Clothes," she said, and was off, padding through the door on bare feet, holding up her ill-fitting pants with one hand, and down the corridor toward the wardrobe room. Jack trailed after her, not sure whether to admire her body or laugh at her attire.
When he caught up with her, the Doctor was rifling through the racks of clothes. After a moment, she turned away, and instead crouched next to a wooden chest, pulling out random pieces and tossing them down onto the carpeted floor. "There are a lot of ties here," she said over her shoulder. "Do you think I should wear a tie? - Loose, of course," she added after a moment, "not right up against my throat!"
Jack smirked, unable to resist. "Lots of things you can do with a tie."
She rose to her feet and turned toward him. "You'd like that, would you, Captain?"
She was smiling, but he couldn't tell - he couldn't tell what she meant by it, if anything. They'd flirted before and never had it go anywhere - Jack remembered his first Doctor well. It was almost sweet in its familiarity, this uncertainty, but it clenched his heart nonetheless.
He pulled up his lower lip, sticking it out a little. "You could have found that out earlier if you hadn't gone for a bow tie last time round. Regular ties are a lot more flexible." He considered. "Tougher, too."
"No fair!" The Doctor huffed a self-deprecating laugh, then shuddered a little, very deliberately. "No fair holding me responsible for the tastes of a man who ate fish fingers and custard."
"You liked me, so your taste can't have been that bad."
She grinned, teeth bared. If he dared, he'd reach out for her now. He didn't.
The Doctor's grin faded, and her eyes turned sharp. "You know, I'd have thought you'd be all over this, new body and everything," she said, almost accusingly.
Jack's eyebrows went up, and other parts of his anatomy reacted as well. He held himself very still. "Do you want me to be?"
"Why wouldn't I?" The Doctor had always had a thing for pouting, and this face could pull it off just as well as his previous one, complete with the obligatory indignant look.
Jack sighed, wishing he didn't have to spell this out. "You never did, before your previous self."
The Doctor looked away. "When we met, you were still mortal. I don't do that. Or anyway, I try not to. It never leads to anything good." She shrugged. "After that, well ... I didn't really manage to wrap my mind around what you'd become until I was dying." An awkward harrumph. "Sorry." She still didn't meet his eyes.
Jack tried to digest this, and failed. He swallowed. "Doctor?"
She finally looked up, scowling. "Take it or leave it."
Something inside him melted. His face felt like it was melting, too - hot all of a sudden, his skin tingling, and his lips curling into an unintended smile. "You still want ...," he said, elliptically, inanely, taking a step forward.
The Doctor moved as well, closing the distance between them. She had the gall to smirk at him. "Give the man a medal!"
Slowly, slowly, Jack reached out a hand and pushed his fingers into the Doctor's black hair, pulling her closer. They were nearly the same height, and for a moment they simply looked at each other, face to face. Her hands settled at his waist, and he could feel her breasts just about brushing his chest. The Doctor's eyes were very green, intense and timeless, and her gaze sent gooseflesh over Jack's skin. He leaned forward a little, drawn, and their mouths met, a brief brush of lips against lips. Hers were a bit dry and rough, though not quite cracked, and he smiled, helplessly, into the less-than-an-inch of air between them. Her tongue came out to trace the curve of his mouth, and without intent, Jack's lips parted. He could feel her smile in return.
Then they were kissing properly, open-mouthed and sloppy, too urgent for slowness now, a thorough shared exploration of her new mouth. Jack sucked in the Doctor's upper lip, and she moaned against him. His hips surged, and their mouths came apart as she laughed a little, breathless.
"Yes," she said.
The Doctor was wearing little, and so was naked faster than Jack. She was less pale than her previous self, but there were freckles on her breasts, and somehow the sight brought him up short. Damn it. He wanted to get to know every inch of her new skin, until it was as familiar as her previous body had been.
Jack brushed a hand over the Doctor's nipples, feeling their stiffness, and bent to suck one of them into his mouth.
She gasped. "No fair," she said, pulling him away. "Take that off first."
He grinned at her. "Nothing you haven't seen before." But he did make a bit of a performance of it, snaking out of his trousers, and watched her watching him.
The Doctor's eyes darkened. "But it feels different. New eyes, new body, remember?"
"I hadn't forgotten."
They were grinning at each other like idiots.
"You know," the Doctor said eventually, tilting her head to the side, "this is new. I've never actually tried it with the same person in two bodies." Her hand brushed over the slight swell of her stomach and down into the dark curls between her legs. Her hips surged a little, and she gasped. "Mmm."
Jack's cock twitched in reply. He offered her his best smouldering look and held out his hands. "All right. Let's get to know the new you."
~*~
Jack looked up at the Doctor, breathing harshly, his skin burning. It was almost too much. The tie around his cock, pulling down his balls. The Doctor on top of him, riding him, strong thighs against his hips. Hands braced against his shoulders, her breasts bouncing, a look of deep, alien concentration on her face.
He knew that look, had seen it on the Doctor's face before. He'd been on his back, his legs hooked over the Doctor's shoulders as the Doctor thrust into him, and that had been exactly the look in the Doctor's eyes. The Doctor had been on his knees before him, his mouth stretched over Jack's cock, and when he'd glanced upward, it had been this same expression on the Doctor's face - intense, intent, alien. Familiar, even if Jack had never quite grasped its meaning. All of him felt stretched, his capacity for sensation and emotion both strained to the limit.
The Doctor rose up a little, and sank down again on his cock, slowly. Her muscles clenched around him. "Fingers," she reminded him, managing to smirk through a panting breath.
Jack mustered the coordination to move his hands, which had settled against her hips. When she rose up again, his fingers slipped between them, between her folds, his thumb against her clit and his fingers down where their bodies met.
Not slow this time: she jerked down, trapping his hand between them. Through eyes wide open only because he had no strength to close them, he saw her throw her head back in a silent moan. And then the Doctor was moving again, fast and harsh, fucking herself on his cock, rutting against his hand.
His balls were impossibly tight, but forced down firmly by her tie. They couldn't pull up, not until she was done with him, not until she had what she wanted. He couldn't come.
But she could. With a keening moan, she shuddered through another orgasm above him.
~*~
Jack woke up to an insistent finger stabbing at his ribs. He batted it away before it managed to poke a hole, and sat up, yawning hugely. The Doctor was here, with him, scowling at him. Jack couldn't help the warmth in his chest, couldn't help wanting to hold on to it, for as long as he could.
"You sleep too much," the Doctor said. She was half-dressed, trousers and an unbuttoned shirt over a bra, an untied tie hanging loose around her neck. Her lower lip was drawn up a little, dimpling her chin.
Jack smirked, and waggled his eyebrows. "Was up a long time yesterday."
She grinned, wide and real and dirty. "So you were." A pat against his hip. "Time for other parts of you to come up, Captain." She leaned forward, sniffed at his neck, and licked it, then leaned back with a thoughtful expression. "Shower. Now."
Jack laughed and pulled himself up, padding toward the bathroom. In the doorway, he briefly turned around to sneak another glance at her.
Their eyes met. She almost flinched away, but then lifted her chin, deliberately, meeting his gaze head-on. That same intent, alien expression was on her face again. He'd seen it often enough, but he'd never known quite what it meant.
He thought he was beginning to understand it now.
~end~
Title: the eyes are new, the look is old
Pairing: female!Doctor/Jack Harkness, previous Eleventh Doctor/Jack Harkness
Rating: R
Summary: "Bugger, this is uncomfortable. Never mind the shoes - my braces are cutting into my breasts, and my pants are designed for an anatomy I no longer possess." She clawed at her throat. "And I'm never wearing bow-ties again."
A/N: Written for Porn Battle XV and the prompt: "any Doctor/Jack, ties". Many thanks to wojelah and fluffyllama for the beta! 2,958 words.
Also posted here at AO3. Comments welcome in either place!
~*~
A first breath, drawn deep: Life surged back into him, and Jack jerked half upright with its force. His lungs revolted, and he bent forward, coughing out the dust and debris he'd inadvertently inhaled.
Finally he was able to breathe without struggle, and he took stock of himself. His greatcoat was in tatters, and the rest of his clothes had fared better only thanks to the heavy wool shielding them. Jack disentangled himself from the remains of his ruined coat and struggled to his feet, looking around.
The explosion had ripped the main generator to pieces. No one anywhere inside the factory could have survived it. Thank God he and the Doctor had managed to get everyone else out in time.
The Doctor.
Jack stumbled forward, his eyes scanning the debris, and found the crumpled heap almost where he'd last seen the Doctor, a little further from the centre of the explosion. Right. They'd stayed back, trying to hold back the imminent explosion for as long as possible, but eventually he'd pushed the Doctor ahead, knowing he would survive even what the Doctor couldn't.
Jack bent over the Doctor's still form. His tweed jacket had fared better than Jack's coat, but he seemed small and broken, the shape of him subtly wrong inside his clothes. His hair was covered in dust, but was it longer than it had been?
Jack's throat tightened. Regeneration. He'd known three of the Doctor's incarnations, and now it would be a fourth.
He wasn't ready to lose him, this awkward, intense, childish, ancient being who'd finally, finally come back into Jack's life. Wasn't ready to lose what they'd shared, and worse, wasn't ready to see the Doctor take another step toward that inevitable, final death that awaited everyone except him.
He shook the thought. No time for that now.
Jack insinuated a hand under the Doctor's chest to turn him onto his back, and stilled when he encountered breasts. Oh. Why was he even surprised? Clearly he'd spent too much time in the 20th and 21st century. He shifted his hand a little lower, turning the Doctor over, into his arms. His face - her face? Jack had no idea how such things worked among Time Lords - was dirty, and Jack brushed away some pieces of debris clinging to the skin.
He patted the Doctor's cheek, not sure if he should be trying to wake him. "Doc? Are you okay?"
In his arms, the Doctor suddenly bent forward, coughing out golden energy. He looked almost surprised at the dissipating sparks, lifting a hand into them, and then abruptly pulled himself out of Jack's arms into a sitting position.
Jack held himself back. The Doctor was prickly enough under normal circumstances, rarely willing to accept support; no telling how he'd react when he'd just ...
"Blast it. I regenerated," the Doctor croaked, then blinked, and felt his throat. He scrunched his nose several times, making him look absurdly like a bunny wiggling its nose, then looked down on himself. He ran his hands through his now-black hair and pulled at the chin-length strands, felt his knees for some reason, then lifted both his breasts in his hands, looked down at them, and then let them fall again with a shrug. "Again. Bugger," he said eloquently, and then the brief burst of energy seemed to leave him, and he hunched in on himself.
"You okay?" Jack asked again.
"Yeah, yeah." The Doctor rubbed his eyes roughly, smearing dirt around. "New eyes! And all my insides are changed," he complained, poking at his ribs next. "I have new bones! I was just fine with the old ones, you know."
Me too, Jack didn't say. Instead, he let his eyes travel over the Doctor's new body. He was almost as tall as he'd been before, but a little more slender now. The curve of the hips was new, too, in place of the sharp bony frame he'd known so well. Every freckle, every dimple and dip - all gone now. "I like the new bones," Jack said lightly. "So, I gather this comes with all the right parts?"
"Don't try that with me." The Doctor's voice was a harsh snap, and Jack almost flinched.
He mimed innocence instead. "What?"
A scowl, incongruously reminiscent of the first Doctor Jack had known. "You always flirt when you don't know what to say."
"I always flirt," Jack retorted.
The Doctor threw up his hands. "You can ask, you know."
Jack swallowed, buying time. He'd never known the Doctor to invite personal questions. When he finally opened his mouth, the best he could manage was, "So how does this work?" It wasn't much of a surprise that a species capable of changing bodies could change all aspects of their body, but that didn't say much about the person inside. "Are you still male, or ...?"
The Doctor's eyes were all too knowing. "New body. It's my body, same as the ones before. I'm comfortable in it. It's me." A shrug. "I was a man. Now I'm a woman. So?"
"So," Jack said inanely, then stopped.
The Doctor looked like she might laugh at him. Then she suddenly bent forward again, coughing convulsively.
"Blast it," she managed eventually, her voice hoarse. "I need to sleep this off. Let's get out of here." She surged to her feet, and stumbled, catching herself against Jack's arm with a grimace. "Shoes."
"Huh?"
The Doctor lifted a foot, scowled at it. "They're too large." She pulled at one of the straps of her braces, letting it snap back against her chest, and flinched. "Ouch. I need new clothes."
Jack looked down on himself. "I think we both do."
The Doctor looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Oh. You lost your coat." She rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. "Bugger, this is uncomfortable. Never mind the shoes - my braces are cutting into my breasts, and my pants are designed for an anatomy I no longer possess." She clawed at her throat. "And I'm never wearing bow-ties again."
Jack laughed a little, absurdly cheered. "The perils of regeneration."
A tired shake of her head sent the Doctor's hair flying, and she impatiently brushed it out of her face. "Last time I had to run around in the tatters of my old suit for ages. I really don't want to walk around in this any longer than I have to." Suddenly there was a wide grin on her face, and she reached for Jack's hand, pulling him along. "To the TARDIS!"
And off they were.
Her running was a bit awkward in shoes too big, and she was holding her free arm under her breasts to support them, but they were running together, hand in hand. Whatever else might have changed between them, with this new Doctor, there was still this.
When they reached the TARDIS door and tumbled inside, an iron band seemed to have burst and fallen away from Jack's heart.
~*~
She was starting to stir. Jack shifted on the bed beside the Doctor, waiting to see if she'd wake up properly this time.
The Doctor had collapsed almost the moment they'd entered the TARDIS, and Jack had carried her to her bedroom. Well, his old bedroom - she might want a new one for a new incarnation. He'd wiped the dust from her face, her hair, and her hands, had taken off her shoes, her braces, her trousers, and her shirt, and the bow-tie of course, but had left the ill-fitting pants and vest. The Doctor's previous incarnation hadn't been shy about nudity with him, but he wasn't going to risk stepping on one the Doctor's invisible boundaries, not when he had no idea how they might have changed. At least he could be here, with her. For now, anyway.
She'd slept restlessly, occasionally jerking up to cough out another bit of golden energy - less each time - and once, she'd jumped from the bed, stumbled out into the corridor, looked around wild-eyed, and then promptly collapsed again.
He'd watched her, getting to know her new face, unable to bring himself to look away, not sure how long this might take and thankful he needed so much less sleep than he had when he'd been mortal.
Now the Doctor sat up abruptly, like a puppet pulled up on strings - a movement that would have seemed unnatural in a human, but was perfectly normal for a Time Lord body. When she looked at Jack, her eyes were clear, but he couldn't read her expression at all.
Then she looked down at herself, and grimaced at the vest stretching over her breasts. "Right. Clothes," she said, and was off, padding through the door on bare feet, holding up her ill-fitting pants with one hand, and down the corridor toward the wardrobe room. Jack trailed after her, not sure whether to admire her body or laugh at her attire.
When he caught up with her, the Doctor was rifling through the racks of clothes. After a moment, she turned away, and instead crouched next to a wooden chest, pulling out random pieces and tossing them down onto the carpeted floor. "There are a lot of ties here," she said over her shoulder. "Do you think I should wear a tie? - Loose, of course," she added after a moment, "not right up against my throat!"
Jack smirked, unable to resist. "Lots of things you can do with a tie."
She rose to her feet and turned toward him. "You'd like that, would you, Captain?"
She was smiling, but he couldn't tell - he couldn't tell what she meant by it, if anything. They'd flirted before and never had it go anywhere - Jack remembered his first Doctor well. It was almost sweet in its familiarity, this uncertainty, but it clenched his heart nonetheless.
He pulled up his lower lip, sticking it out a little. "You could have found that out earlier if you hadn't gone for a bow tie last time round. Regular ties are a lot more flexible." He considered. "Tougher, too."
"No fair!" The Doctor huffed a self-deprecating laugh, then shuddered a little, very deliberately. "No fair holding me responsible for the tastes of a man who ate fish fingers and custard."
"You liked me, so your taste can't have been that bad."
She grinned, teeth bared. If he dared, he'd reach out for her now. He didn't.
The Doctor's grin faded, and her eyes turned sharp. "You know, I'd have thought you'd be all over this, new body and everything," she said, almost accusingly.
Jack's eyebrows went up, and other parts of his anatomy reacted as well. He held himself very still. "Do you want me to be?"
"Why wouldn't I?" The Doctor had always had a thing for pouting, and this face could pull it off just as well as his previous one, complete with the obligatory indignant look.
Jack sighed, wishing he didn't have to spell this out. "You never did, before your previous self."
The Doctor looked away. "When we met, you were still mortal. I don't do that. Or anyway, I try not to. It never leads to anything good." She shrugged. "After that, well ... I didn't really manage to wrap my mind around what you'd become until I was dying." An awkward harrumph. "Sorry." She still didn't meet his eyes.
Jack tried to digest this, and failed. He swallowed. "Doctor?"
She finally looked up, scowling. "Take it or leave it."
Something inside him melted. His face felt like it was melting, too - hot all of a sudden, his skin tingling, and his lips curling into an unintended smile. "You still want ...," he said, elliptically, inanely, taking a step forward.
The Doctor moved as well, closing the distance between them. She had the gall to smirk at him. "Give the man a medal!"
Slowly, slowly, Jack reached out a hand and pushed his fingers into the Doctor's black hair, pulling her closer. They were nearly the same height, and for a moment they simply looked at each other, face to face. Her hands settled at his waist, and he could feel her breasts just about brushing his chest. The Doctor's eyes were very green, intense and timeless, and her gaze sent gooseflesh over Jack's skin. He leaned forward a little, drawn, and their mouths met, a brief brush of lips against lips. Hers were a bit dry and rough, though not quite cracked, and he smiled, helplessly, into the less-than-an-inch of air between them. Her tongue came out to trace the curve of his mouth, and without intent, Jack's lips parted. He could feel her smile in return.
Then they were kissing properly, open-mouthed and sloppy, too urgent for slowness now, a thorough shared exploration of her new mouth. Jack sucked in the Doctor's upper lip, and she moaned against him. His hips surged, and their mouths came apart as she laughed a little, breathless.
"Yes," she said.
The Doctor was wearing little, and so was naked faster than Jack. She was less pale than her previous self, but there were freckles on her breasts, and somehow the sight brought him up short. Damn it. He wanted to get to know every inch of her new skin, until it was as familiar as her previous body had been.
Jack brushed a hand over the Doctor's nipples, feeling their stiffness, and bent to suck one of them into his mouth.
She gasped. "No fair," she said, pulling him away. "Take that off first."
He grinned at her. "Nothing you haven't seen before." But he did make a bit of a performance of it, snaking out of his trousers, and watched her watching him.
The Doctor's eyes darkened. "But it feels different. New eyes, new body, remember?"
"I hadn't forgotten."
They were grinning at each other like idiots.
"You know," the Doctor said eventually, tilting her head to the side, "this is new. I've never actually tried it with the same person in two bodies." Her hand brushed over the slight swell of her stomach and down into the dark curls between her legs. Her hips surged a little, and she gasped. "Mmm."
Jack's cock twitched in reply. He offered her his best smouldering look and held out his hands. "All right. Let's get to know the new you."
~*~
Jack looked up at the Doctor, breathing harshly, his skin burning. It was almost too much. The tie around his cock, pulling down his balls. The Doctor on top of him, riding him, strong thighs against his hips. Hands braced against his shoulders, her breasts bouncing, a look of deep, alien concentration on her face.
He knew that look, had seen it on the Doctor's face before. He'd been on his back, his legs hooked over the Doctor's shoulders as the Doctor thrust into him, and that had been exactly the look in the Doctor's eyes. The Doctor had been on his knees before him, his mouth stretched over Jack's cock, and when he'd glanced upward, it had been this same expression on the Doctor's face - intense, intent, alien. Familiar, even if Jack had never quite grasped its meaning. All of him felt stretched, his capacity for sensation and emotion both strained to the limit.
The Doctor rose up a little, and sank down again on his cock, slowly. Her muscles clenched around him. "Fingers," she reminded him, managing to smirk through a panting breath.
Jack mustered the coordination to move his hands, which had settled against her hips. When she rose up again, his fingers slipped between them, between her folds, his thumb against her clit and his fingers down where their bodies met.
Not slow this time: she jerked down, trapping his hand between them. Through eyes wide open only because he had no strength to close them, he saw her throw her head back in a silent moan. And then the Doctor was moving again, fast and harsh, fucking herself on his cock, rutting against his hand.
His balls were impossibly tight, but forced down firmly by her tie. They couldn't pull up, not until she was done with him, not until she had what she wanted. He couldn't come.
But she could. With a keening moan, she shuddered through another orgasm above him.
~*~
Jack woke up to an insistent finger stabbing at his ribs. He batted it away before it managed to poke a hole, and sat up, yawning hugely. The Doctor was here, with him, scowling at him. Jack couldn't help the warmth in his chest, couldn't help wanting to hold on to it, for as long as he could.
"You sleep too much," the Doctor said. She was half-dressed, trousers and an unbuttoned shirt over a bra, an untied tie hanging loose around her neck. Her lower lip was drawn up a little, dimpling her chin.
Jack smirked, and waggled his eyebrows. "Was up a long time yesterday."
She grinned, wide and real and dirty. "So you were." A pat against his hip. "Time for other parts of you to come up, Captain." She leaned forward, sniffed at his neck, and licked it, then leaned back with a thoughtful expression. "Shower. Now."
Jack laughed and pulled himself up, padding toward the bathroom. In the doorway, he briefly turned around to sneak another glance at her.
Their eyes met. She almost flinched away, but then lifted her chin, deliberately, meeting his gaze head-on. That same intent, alien expression was on her face again. He'd seen it often enough, but he'd never known quite what it meant.
He thought he was beginning to understand it now.
~end~