Fic: Healing Pains (5/5)
Title: Healing Pains (5/5)
Betas: canaana & wendymr
Rating: Adult (swearing, non-explicit and explicit sex, mention of kinks)
Spoilers: The Doctor Dances
Characters: Nine/Jack, Rose, others
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction; the characters are the property of the BBC and used here without permission. No money was made.
Summary: All she wanted to do was go to a bleeding potato museum. She shouldn't have to die for it.
A/N: Written for dshael, who bid on me in the Support Stacie Auction.. This is set in the Deal-verse, but all you really need to know to read it is that Jack and the Doctor got together shortly after Jack joined the TARDIS.
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four
Chapter Five
By the time they get to the TARDIS, Rose is exhausted. She sits in the jump seat and yawns. "Where to now?"
The Doctor plugs the screwdriver into the port on the console he uses to charge it. "TARDIS is going into the Vortex, and you are going to the medbay." He starts flipping levers and dials.
Rose groans. "I've been looking forward to my own bed for days."
"Want to monitor your condition. Should be stable now, but..." He looks at her, and she can see the worry and guilt in his eyes. He needs to be sure.
She sighs. "Can't you monitor me in my room, though? Please?"
The Doctor looks at Jack. "Help me move the equipment?"
Jack nods. "Sure."
"Right. C'mon then." He links his arm through hers and they escort her to her room. She sits heavily on the bed - her wonderful, soft bed with the fluffy pink duvet Jack talked a Tristonian clan chief into having made for "the lady who saved the children." She gets up again and walks towards the en-suite before she can talk herself into just curling up and sleeping in her clothes.
"You okay to change into your pyjamas, brush your teeth and whatever?" the Doctor asks.
"Course," she says. She's tired, not an invalid.
"All right. We'll go and get the monitors. Be back in ten minutes." He smiles.
"Gimme twenty." She wants a quick shower at least, and enough time to get ready for bed without rushing.
They nod and leave.
Rose showers, dries herself off and puts on her warmest set of pyjamas - pink flannel her mother gave her for Christmas. Then she finally screws up her nerves and turns to the mirror she's been avoiding. She stands and looks at herself. Her hair's a mess. There's hardly any of it left, but what she does have is still as long as it was, hanging down in curling, untidy wisps. She'll have to shave those off, too, let it all grow back together.
She notices an electric razor on the side of the sink. That wasn't there five minutes ago. She smiles. "Thanks, girl."
She picks it up determinedly and touches it to her forehead. Her hands are shaking. Must be the exhaustion, of course. What else would it be? It's just hair after all.
She presses the button, and the razor lights up and makes a buzzing noise not unlike the screwdriver's. Sonic razor then. Just as well. She slowly moves it back and forth across her scalp, then left to right. Long wisps of hair fall on the floor and into the sink. They seem blurry for some reason, and so does her reflection. She takes a deep breath and keeps going.
There's a knock on her door, and the Doctor's voice calls out, "Rose? You decent?"
"Yeah, come on i-" She loses her voice in a sob. Dammit. It's just hair.
The door opens and the Doctor is by her side faster than should be possible. Jack has to squeeze past the trolley full of equipment to get to her door, but he's not far behind. "Rose, what's wr- Oh." The Doctor looks from her to the razor and back. "Rose... it'll grow again."
Now she can't hold back the sobs anymore. Jack turns her around and holds her tight. In the mirror, she can see him glare at the Doctor.
"Sorry. Was trying to help."
Jack shakes his head and kisses her forehead. "Rose. You have a lovely face. Beautiful eyes. And a great body."
She swats his arse at that, but hopes he won't stop.
He cups her face in his large, warm hands. "You don't need hair to be gorgeous."
The wonderful thing about Jack is, he means it. He has a way of looking at people and seeing right past their blemishes to the beauty. The Doctor means well, and he doesn't care about her hair either, but Jack is a lot better at finding the right words. She leans against him. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make a fuss."
They both shake their heads.
"'S fine."
"Sweetheart, do you want me to get the back for you?" Jack asks.
"Please."
Jack picks up the razor and sits her down on the toilet lid. With a few sure strokes, he cleans up everything she missed. Then he grabs a tube of lotion from the shelf and shows it to her. "Do you want to, or should I?"
Lotion. Right. She wouldn't have though of it, but it's a good idea. She nods at him.
While Jack rubs it in and massages her skull - and wow, where did he learn to do that? - Rose watches the Doctor. He's leaning against the doorjamb, clearly uncomfortable. This is all too domestic for him. And whenever he looks at Jack, there's a shadow of pain in his eyes. Jack, on the other hand, is barely looking at his lover at all.
Rose sighs. "You two need to talk."
The both freeze.
"Please," Rose presses on. "I'll never forgive myself if you break up because of me."
The blokes exchange a glance.
"Rose," Jack says, "None of this is your fault."
The Doctor looks at him, startled. "Also, we're not going to break up... right?"
Jack sighs. "God, I hope not." He picks up the scarf and gently wraps it around her head, tucking in the ends.
"You're right, Rose." The Doctor nods at her. "We do need to talk." She smiles, relieved. The blokes can be so boneheaded sometimes, both too stubborn to take the first step. She's glad she's managed to take it for them.
Jack helps her up. "Let's get you to bed and hooked up to the monitors."
"Yeah. Rather not leave you alone otherwise."
Rose nods tiredly and lets Jack lead her to the bed. She lies down and he covers her with the duvet. He takes a small bottle of water from the trolley and puts it on her bedside table.
The Doctor affixes some blinking patches to her forehead, wrist, and, with a mumbled apology for reaching into her top, right above her collarbone. He starts fumbling with the machine Jack has wheeled next to the bed.
"Signal's coming in fine. I'll just channel it to the screwdr- Dammit, it's still charging." He looks at Jack. "Can you tune your wristcomp into this?"
"Yeah." He starts pressing buttons, and asks in a voice too casual to be real, "Don't suppose you can fix this thing now that we're back here?"
The Doctor flinches. "Not without new parts. Don't have anything that'd fit. But we can look."
Jack nods, not looking up from the wristcomp. What happened to it? Rose decides to ask the Doctor later. The atmosphere is tense enough as it is, and she knows how important the device is to Jack.
There's a beep and Jack holds his wrist out to the Doctor. "Getting clear readings."
"Fantastic. Thank you." He turns to smile at her. "Anything you need, Rose?"
She nods. "I need you two to sort this." The three of them are strongest as a team. And they're not going to be a team anymore with things the way they are between the blokes. She wants them to sort this so they'll be happy, but a small, selfish part of her also wants it for herself.
The Doctor takes her hand and squeezes it gently. "Don't worry." But his eyes show that he does.
*****
Jack throws himself on his bed. The Doctor stands by the door, looking uncomfortable. Jack pats the mattress. "Come on."
"You sure?"
Jack shrugs. "This conversation's going to be uncomfortable enough even with a mattress and blankets."
The Doctor sits on the bed, leaning against the headboard, not quite touching Jack. He hems noncommittally. If only he knew how to start this. Hopefully, Jack will. If Jack puts him on the spot, he might be able to explain his behavior and his feelings. Jack brings that out in him.
"Right," Jack starts, staring at the ceiling. "Out with it, then. What do you need from me? Another apology? Want me to beg?" He turns onto his side and looks at the Doctor. The bitterness in his eyes belies the easy tone. "Beat me, maybe?"
What the bloody hell? The Doctor stares at him, speechless. "I'd never..." Damn, what has the lad been thinking? Has he really done such a piss-poor job of making him believe that he doesn't blame him? He mentally reviews the past few days. Seems like he has. "You don't need to ask my forgiveness."
Jack's voice turns brittle. "No, I don't. I did the right thing. But clearly you're not getting over it. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes so you will. Blame me, punish me, I don't care. I just want to put this behind us."
The Doctor shakes his head. Great. Not only was he not part of the solution to their problem, as far as Jack is concerned, he is the problem. "Was going to apologize to you."
Jack raises an eyebrow. "Really?" He cocks his head.
The Doctor nods. "You did do the right thing. An' I've been a git about it." He holds Jack's gaze. It's hard, but he wants him to see he's not lying.
Jack looks at him silently. A corner of his mouth is twitching.
"I'm trying, Jack, really I am, it's just..."
"… the way you're wired?" Jack asks.
He nods.
And there it is, right there in Jack's eyes - the understanding and willingness to forgive that make his human lover so fantastic. That allow the Doctor to say things like this.
"It makes me sick when I think of what you did." A frown from Jack, so he pushes on. "I don't blame you. You saved Rose. I just... wish I could forget how." As Jack can. As he already would have if the Doctor's behavior wasn't a constant reminder that all is not right.
After a moment, Jack grins and straddles his thighs. He puts a hand on the Doctor's zip and starts rubbing slow circles. "Wanna see if I can make you forget?"
The Doctor blinks. That wasn't what he'd expected. He hesitates. He wants Jack - damn, so much - but he's not sure he'll be able to relax into this right now.
"C'mon, Doc. Nothing like getting back on the camel to get over a shock."
He nods and forces a grin. "Right you are." He reaches to open his zip.
Jack shakes his head. "Let me."
The Doctor sags back and makes an effort to relax his tense muscles. Jack opens his flies and takes out the Doctor's cock, cradling it gently. The Doctor's completely flaccid - the last few days have taken their toll - but Jack knows how to change that. His skillful fingers play over all the Doctor's most sensitive spots. Jack knows just where to stroke, where to rub, where to put pressure, and that little spot hidden by his foreskin where a light scratch with a fingernail will make the blood flow surge.
It only takes him eighty-one seconds until the Doctor's cock is erect, poking out of his trousers hot and hard. Jack sits back, looking at the Doctor's cock with a wide grin. He teasingly strokes his index finger along the very sensitive base of the head a few times. The Doctor groans. It takes all his self-control not to thrust up. His eyes are fixed on Jack's.
"Isn't this more fun than fretting about the past?" His lover throws him a saucy grin and bends towards his desperately straining cock.
The Doctor can feel that Jack's not much better off - a hard bulge is pressing into his thigh through both their jeans. He stretches out a hand. "Want me to-"
"Later. Let's take care of you first."
The Doctor hisses with pleasure as Jack's lips close around his shaft. His tongue is playing over the head in light, teasing circles. It's wonderful and almost unbearable at the same time.
He watches Jack's dark head bob up and down in his lap, his lips stroking the length of the Doctor's cock, which is getting ever harder, darker, throbbing with lust-
And suddenly the scene shifts. Instead of Jack's bedroom, he sees a dingy back room full of storage crates. Instead of his own cock, he sees Jack's head bobbing up and down on a fat violet G'nudulak dick, his hands cradling a pair of puce balls...
The image is too much to bear. He feels his erection flag. Jack looks up at him, a question in his eyes. A strangled "no" forces its way past the Doctor's throat. He pushes Jack away with a desperate "get off," too nauseous to bear the closeness. The back room turns into their bedroom again just as he watches his erection - his own, dark red with not a hint of violet - wilt like a waterlily in the desert.
*****
Jack crawls backwards, putting the length of the bed between them. The pain is trying to swallow him whole. He wants to protest, to rage that it's unfair, that he needs his lover's touch as much as the Doctor needs his - but the Doctor said no, and there's only one response to that. "Want me to leave?"
"No!" The Doctor looks at him, alarmed. "Never."
The degree of panic in the Doctor's eyes makes Jack realize that the Doctor thought he meant the TARDIS, not this room. Maybe he did. He's not sure. He sighs and sits cross-legged in the corner furthest from the Doctor. There's nothing to say, so he doesn't.
The Doctor looks at him as if he's waiting for something.
"What?" he asks, completely failing to keep the bitterness and raw pain out of his voice.
The Doctor looks down and rubs his neck. "Was hoping you'd... fix this."
"Me?" What the hell? Like this is his fault? He was nicely moving things along, trying to get back to normal, when the Doctor decided to treat his lover's attentions like an assault. How dare he demand now-
"Well, not like I can, is it?" The Doctor's staring at his hands, and his voice is barely audible. "Rubbish at domestics, me. Give me a kino-temporal paradox loop any day, but you're the one who knows how to..." He looks up at Jack, shrugging helplessly.
Oh. Okay, that's different. The Doctor's asking for help, not accusing him. He can work with this. Patience. Jack sighs and mentally summons up the state of detachment his mediation trainer called "the calm place." Find the problem. Analyze the problem. Find the central knot and untie it.
He looks at the Doctor. "What just happened?"
The Doctor blinks.
"Not physically. I was there for that." Despite his anger, he can still feel his erection straining inside his jeans. "You said you didn't blame me. You said you wanted to get back to normal. You seemed happy enough when we started. What changed?"
The Doctor bites his lip and looks away.
"Do you want me to fix this or not?"
A nod. "I... saw you with one of them."
"What? When?" God, did the Doctor follow him to the bar?
"Just now." He touches his temple. "In here."
"You... imagined seeing me with another bloke?" Yeah, that's not healthy. Unless one's into cuckolding, which the Doctor is not.
"Have been ever since... Know I shouldn't. Know I'm only driving myself crazy. But I can't get the pictures out of my head."
"That's the problem? Whenever you look at me, you see me with someone else?"
The Doctor's eyes show guilt. "'M sorry. Know it's not fair."
Epiphany strikes. Jack knows just what to do now. At least he hopes so. It's a bit crazy, but their best plans usually are. He jumps off the bed. "Wait here."
"What?"
Jack grins. "You want me to fix this. I know how to fix this. But I'm going to need half an hour to get ready. Stay here."
The Doctor frowns, but nods. "Right."
Jack bends down and firmly kisses his lips. "Try not to obsess while I'm gone."
An awkward laugh. "I'll try."
Jack leaves the room. He checks his wristcomp to make sure Rose is fast asleep, then he sets off to begin his preparations.
*****
The Doctor paces. He's been making mental lists - TARDIS maintenance chores he needs to do, supplies they need to stock up on - sorted into food, tech, and sundry - likely places to acquire them with the smallest possible number of trips, planets he really wants to show Jack and Rose, planets he really needs to keep Jack and Rose away from, planets where there's a bounty on his head, planets where he knows for a fact that there either is one on Jack's or would be within five minutes of him setting foot outside... He's running out of ways to keep from obsessing. It's been thirty-one minutes and twelve seconds.
Of course, when Jack said "half an hour," he meant it in the sloppy human sense. He's probably still "preparing." The Doctor sighs. He trusts Jack - the lad is very good at reading and manipulating people, and right now the Doctor wants to be manipulated back to normality. He just wishes he knew the plan.
The door opens and Jack comes in, looking excited. He's still wearing the same outfit as before - clearly his preparations had nothing to do with personal grooming. He holds a hand out to the Doctor. "Come with me."
He takes the hand, but frowns. "Where to?"
Jack grins. "You'll see."
As they leave Jack's room, the Doctor nods towards his wristcomp. "How's Rose?"
"Sleeping. Good vitals."
He nods.
Jack squeezes his hand. "Now, when we get there, you have to promise me you'll try to just relax and follow my lead, all right?"
"Follow your lead with what?"
Jack shakes his head. "That's the problem exactly." He presses a quick peck to the Doctor's temple without breaking stride. "You think too much. Always analyzing, questioning, imagining..."
"Can't help it."
"I know. But for the next hour or so, just try, yeah? Try to focus on the here and now. Stay in the moment with me. You're a Time Lord, I don't need to tell you how vast they are."
The Doctor raises an eyebrow. The Vastness of Moments is a very advanced concept of temporal theory. It has to do with potentials, with the way every single moment contains endless possibilities to shape, destroy and create... He wonders how much of the theory Jack truly understands. He'll have to ask him sometime.
But not now. Because clearly, right now they're on a mission. A mission to - hang on...
"We goin' to the zero-g room?" he asks.
Jack grins and turns the final corner that will get them there. "Remember what you promised." He stops outside the door. "Ready?"
Why would the lad think that zero-g sex will come any easier to him than the regular kind? Still, he promised to go with it. He nods, and Jack hits the door opener.
The doors slides back and they both step forward. The room still has gravity - it's hard on the TARDIS to maintain a separate anti-grav field without a physical barrier, so they never switch it on before the door is closed behind them. As the door glides shut, the Doctor looks around. In every direction, he sees himself staring back.
The floor, the walls, the ceilings, and even the handholds and other structures they use to move around when the anti-grav field is on are covered in mirrors. Not just any mirrors, either - Swarolin crystal mirrors, which reflect images perfectly, without the slightest distortion, and are resistant to impact and dirt.
The mirrors are angled cleverly, too - wherever he looks, he can see himself from the front, the back, or the side, just by turning his head a few degrees. Reflections, reflections of reflections, reflections of reflections of reflections, and so on to infinity - and every single one perfectly clear and undistorted. Thank the stars he's not given to vertigo.
A sweet aroma makes him breath in deeply. "Coconut?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Remember that night on Rotico Prime when we rented the jungle suite?"
The Doctor nods, and feels his mouth curve into a smile, as it never fails to do when that memory is brought up. It had been... adventurous. The first time Jack got him to really let go, admit to curiosities and try out experiences he'd barely dared to think about before.
"Smell is the strongest memory trigger there is." Jack pauses and cocks his head. "For humans."
He smiles. "It works pretty well for Time Lords, too."
"Great. I want you to stay in the moment, but I thought it'd help create a mood." He puts his hand on the anti-grav button. "Are you ready?"
"I'm still not sure what-"
"Ready for the zero-g?"
He nods. Jack presses the button. They both push off.
The Doctor has more experience than Jack in zero-g - largely due to the age difference - but Jack has natural grace and elegance. The Doctor can get from A to B - and even to gamma, epsilon and th1r#*b - in zero-g easily enough, but seeing Jack move without the constraints of gravity is like watching a skilled ballet or a swarm of Isolus. He dives and turns in elegant curves, using the structures in the room to push off or pirouette. And seeing him do it in perfect synchronicity with myriad flawless reflections - the Doctor feels heat pulsing in his groin before either of them loses a single piece of clothing.
Speaking of. If this is headed where he's sure it is, clothing will soon be surplus to requirements. He shrugs out of his jacket and starts fumbling with his belt, using gentle movements to avoid drifting into any of the structures.
Jack wraps himself around the Doctor from behind. "Let me worry about that." He gently turns the Doctor's head to the left, where four angled mirrors show four perfect reflections of them - from the front, from behind, from above and from the left. "You just look at us. Whatever you do, keep looking at us."
Ah. So that's the plan. As Jack opens the Doctor's belt and undoes his jeans, then pushes himself down - and the Doctor up - to open the laces on his leather boots, the Doctor watches him and considers. He's not sure this will work. Seeing himself with Jack, smelling the coconut, being forced to concentrate on the here and now because the zero-g requires him to focus on movements that would normally be automatic - yes, all of this might keep him from seeing visions of Jack with G'nudulak customers. But on the other hand--
He feels his arse sharply pinched through his briefs. "Hey! Stay with me. No brooding."
Right. He shakes his head and returns his focus to the reflections. Jack's bundling his jeans and boots into the leather jacket now. Then he grabs the edge of the jumper and yanks downward.
"Oi!" He reflexively throws up his arms.
"Need to make sure you're paying attention." Jack grins. He pushes off a foothold, keeping hold of the jumper, and drifts up, pulling it neatly over the Doctor's head.
The Doctor watches as Jack adds the jumper to the bundle and stuffs his clothes into a hidden compartment in one of the pillars. "Make sure you don't forget where you put it."
"Like you don't have twenty-three identical sets." Jack grins.
The Doctor pushes himself upwards and swats Jack's arse. "Notice you're still fully clothed." He looks him up and down with a raised eyebrow.
Jack grabs his arm and uses it to pull them close together. He gently tips the Doctor's chin to the ceiling - or is that a wall? He's not quite sure anymore. "Don't watch me. Watch us."
The Jack in the reflection now kicks off his own shoes and quickly wraps them in his t-shirt. "Might need help with the jeans," he leers.
The Doctor reaches for Jack's belt, but the unusual perspective in the mirror makes him miss and grab Jack's groin instead. Jack hisses, but it doesn't sound like a complaint. The Doctor sees his own cock twitch. It's growing darker and thicker every second.
Jack strokes a finger along his shaft. The Doctor looks down at his lover. That gets him a sharp pinch. "Don't look at me. Keep looking at us!"
The Doctor nods and looks straight ahead. The wall - ceiling, floor, what does it matter - behind Jack shows his own face, focused and a bit anxious, and Jack's back, his jeans slowly sliding down to reveal more and more of his arse.
The Doctor enjoys the view. He likes Jack's arse. His own always seems a bit flat and bony to him, but Jack's is perfectly rounded and with just the right amount of padding. He sees himself grin. It's a good arse.
He gasps as a different sensation floods his system. His eyes in the mirror are dark and wide. Turning his head by a fraction, he can see - through a series of reflections reflecting each other - a side view of himself and Jack. They are both naked now - he's not sure where Jack's clothes disappeared to so quickly, but suspects another hidden cubby hole - and both their penises are proudly erect. Jack has a hand gently wrapped around both their cocks from below, using the leverage to rub them against each other.
The Doctor looks up, getting the bird's eye view so Jack's hand isn't in the way. Jack's cock is slowly gliding along the tip of his own and dancing up and down the shaft. Jack's got a bit of length on him, though the Doctor's got more girth. It makes it feel as if Jack's touching all of him at once. The dusky hue, a few shades darker than the lad's natural skin tone, complements his own dark red in a way he never noticed before. They just seem to... fit.
He wonders if Jack's cock looked so good against any of his custom-
Before he can even finish the thought, there's a slight dip in his erection, and then a sudden sharp pain as Jack digs in a fingernail.
"Oi!" the Doctor protests.
"Stay here with me. Keep your mind on us." Jack's voice is low and husky. He puts his hands on the Doctor's hips and pushes him up - and himself down - until his face is inches from the Doctor's groin. "I'm not going to be able to talk for a bit, so I need you to keep looking at us." His breath feels hot against the Doctors balls. "I want you to see who I'm doing this with." Jack plays his tongue along the Doctor's slit. "Don't let your mind drift. And don't close your eyes."
The Doctor nods, and turns his head to the right. A field of slightly angled mirrors presents him with views of him and Jack from above, his right, and Jack's back. The latter is upside-down, but still clear.
He watches himself as Jack slowly swallows him down. At first he looks tense, but when Jack's lips tighten on his base, his face goes slack, and when Jack starts sucking - blimey, does his grin always look that goofy when Jack blows him? Do his ears always turn that shade of red?
He lets his gaze wander to Jack's reflection - focused expression, mouth moving around the Doctor's cock with relaxed ease while his hands anchor them to each other. So beautiful. Why would anyone so beautiful want a silly, big-eared, big-nosed-
An eye tooth digs into his foreskin a bit too hard for comfort. He yelps and looks down. Jack rolls his eyes and pointedly looks at the mirror.
The Doctor looks back at their reflection - docked together, Jack's focus so completely on him, as if nothing else existed in the universe. He sees himself shiver - strange, he doesn't feel cold. He looks straight ahead, where a mirror shows the scene from his back - all he can see of Jack there are his hands on his hips and his legs reaching out past the Doctor's feet.
His feet, which, he realizes now that he sees it, are curling and uncurling with pleasure. He stills them with an effort.
Without meaning to, he starts thrusting. He looks down, startled, and sees Jack winking up at him, taking the movement easily. Looking back to the mirror, he sees his own arse tense. He's about to-
Jack pulls away, shoves himself upwards, and swallows the Doctor's frustrated groan in a greedy kiss. "Not yet," he whispers, his teeth teasing the edge of the Doctor's ear. "I want you to come inside me."
"Your mouth is inside you," the Doctor growls.
Jack laughs and pokes the ticklish spot below his navel, making him squirm. "Let's do this slowly. It'll be worth it." He stretches to reach the nearest handhold and looks around. "D'you happen to know which direction is normally the floor?"
The Doctor rolls his eyes. "Where the bottom of the door is."
Jack chuckles unabashedly. "Knew I fell in love with a genius." He counts the pillars and pulls himself sideways - though normally that would be down. "Follow me."
The Doctor wants to make a biting comment, but his cock seems to be following Jack of its own accord, and he has no choice but to tag along.
They arrive at a beam with two handholds. Jack pulls open a drawer and produces a small tube. He opens it and carefully spreads a creamy paste on the Doctor's cock, keeping his touch maddeningly light.
The Doctor tries to keep his voice steady. "Not Brenusian nut oil this - time?" The last word turns into a squeal when Jack circles the base of his head.
"Wanted something with more viscosity for zero-g. Don't want loose drops hovering all over the room."
The scent hits the Doctor and shoots straight to his cock. He can't quite describe it, but it's rich and musky and wonderful, and the soft cream spread all over his straining cock feels so good he could probably come then and there if he as much as bumped Jack's leg.
Jack grins. "Like it?"
"What is it?" he asks through clenched teeth. Only Jack's arm on his shoulder prevents him from floating off, too overwhelmed to worry about body control.
"Well, in a word - it's me." Jack leers.
The Doctor understands. "You made a synthetic version of your own pheromones, mixed it with medical lubricant."
"Eau de Jack." He winks. "You like?"
The Doctor just nods. Any attempt to form words might end in more embarrassing squeaks.
Jack turns around and grabs two handholds, his back to the Doctor. "What I've put on you is plenty. Let's get to it." The tightness in his voice betrays his own urgency.
The Doctor makes a sound of protest. "Not like this. I want to see you face-to-face."
Jack shakes his head. "This is better. Look ahead."
The Doctor does - and gasps. From their position, he can see the two of them from all sides, but best of all, from the front. He bends forward and puts his chin on Jack's shoulder, leaning their faces together. And there they are, in the mirror, their eyes locked on each other, and so, so close.
He puts a hand on Jack's arse and starts massaging gently, teasing his opening with a finger.
"I'm good," Jack growls, but the Doctor shakes his head.
"Said it yourself. Let's do this slowly." He kisses Jack's jaw, never taking his eyes of their reflection. "Want to savor this."
Jack grins. "Just so you know - when you're inside me, I'm letting go of the handholds."
Drifting in mid-air, held by nothing but their joined bodies. Suddenly savoring the prep doesn't seem quite as important anymore. He moves his finger inside Jack a few times, adds a second with a bit more haste than most partners would enjoy, and is of course rewarded with an appreciative moan from Jack. In the mirror, he sees Jack's cock strain for the ceiling - technically the floor - and when he puts both hands on Jack's hips and starts slowly pushing inside him, Jack cock twitches as if he's about to come just from that.
The moment the Doctor's balls touch his arse, Jack lets go, pushing them off with a bit of a twirl. They're slowly turning in the center of the room, joined together, and wherever the Doctor looks, he sees himself and Jack. No one else.
"This won't take long," he mumbles into Jack's ear.
"Y'think?" Jack gasps.
A few thrusts into the warmth and softness that is Jack, and he's right at the brink, holding himself back by sheer force of will. He pulls out half-way, reaches around Jack, wraps one hand around his lover's cock and the other arm around his hips. One more thrust and a few deft strokes are all it takes - they both come, cheeks pressed together, the mirrors reflecting thousands of identical expressions of rapture.
Jack and the Doctor. And no one else.
*****
Rose wakes up slowly, feeling truly rested for the first time since before the potato museum. She stretches luxuriously and glances at all the monitors next to her bed. She has no idea how to read them, but nothing looks mauve, so she's probably fine.
She gets up to use the bathroom. She's brushing her teeth when there's a frantic knock on the door. "Rose?" the Doctor's worried voice shouts. "You all right?"
"Yesh!" she yells "But don' come in." She spits and hurriedly pulls on her bathrobe. "All right," she shouts.
The door opens and the Doctor slips in, followed by a chuckling Jack. "Told you she'd just walked out of range, Doc."
"Yeah, yeah. Right clever, you are." He looks at her sheepishly. "You life signal suddenly cut out." He gestures at Jack's wrist, which, Rose notes with a smile, is wrapped tightly around his waist. "Just wanted to be sure you're okay."
Rose nods, then cracks up as she sees Jack mouthing "mother hen" over the Doctor's shoulder.
The Doctor's hand lands on Jack's arse with smack. "I heard that."
"No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't." He grins. "But don't go mouthing stuff if I can see you in the mirror, either."
For some reason, both blokes' eyes seem to soften at the word "mirror," and their bodies sag against each other.
Rose smiles. "I see you talked."
Jack grins. "There was... some talking."
The tips of the Doctor's ears turn pink. "Jack..." he says warningly.
Jack is opening his mouth to say something that would no doubt earn him another smack, but Rose cuts him off. "No details. Please. As long as you've dealt with it."
Jack chuckles. "You could say we dealt with the... gravity of the situation, yes."
The Doctor rolls his eyes. "So, what do you want to do today?" he asks, in his cheerful "Let's change the topic right now" voice.
"Well... if you'll let me finish getting ready," Rose says, pointedly looking at her robe and the bathroom door, "I was hoping we could go and buy some of that hair stimulant Jack was talking about. And maybe some hats."
They exchange a dubious glance. "Sure you're up to that, hon?" Jack asks.
She nods.
The Doctor shakes his head. "Really, Rose, I'd rather you spent today in bed. Or on the sofa. We could watch films."
Rose looks at her bare feet. "But... the sooner I start using the stimulant, the sooner it'll start working, right?" God, she hates that she's still so self-conscious about her silly hair.
Jack nods. "How about the Doctor and I go and buy it right now, while you're getting ready?" He turns to the Doctor. "You land us on the Kashmere Plaza anywhen after the 50th century, and I duck into a shop and pick some up? Can be back before breakfast."
The Doctor nods. "All right. You take your time, Rose. Go to the screening room when you're ready, we'll bring toast and tea."
Later that day, leaning in the corner of the sofa with a blanket, her scalp tingling pleasantly from the stimulant, Rose watches the blokes curled up together more tightly than a pair of socks. The Doctor's grumbling about "Jack's cuddling needs," of course - but every time Jack scoots away to grab a snack or adjust her blanket, he makes very sure to pull him close again as soon as he's done.
She grins and returns her attention to the screen. Jack swore that this Shakespeare interpretation from his century would blow her mind. It has - mostly because she didn't expect so many water buffaloes. But she does agree with the title. All's Well that Ends Well.
The End
Prompt: Our Heroes are caught in a situation where the Doctor's only choice is to pimp Jack out, or let his companions be killed horribly. He's completely helpless with no aces up his sleeve. I'd like him to spend at least a little time believing Jack is off somewhere having sex with someone else, but whether that really happens is up to you. Jack can have all the aces up his sleeve he wants! Happy ending please (of course).
Betas: canaana & wendymr
Rating: Adult (swearing, non-explicit and explicit sex, mention of kinks)
Spoilers: The Doctor Dances
Characters: Nine/Jack, Rose, others
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction; the characters are the property of the BBC and used here without permission. No money was made.
Summary: All she wanted to do was go to a bleeding potato museum. She shouldn't have to die for it.
A/N: Written for dshael, who bid on me in the Support Stacie Auction.. This is set in the Deal-verse, but all you really need to know to read it is that Jack and the Doctor got together shortly after Jack joined the TARDIS.
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four
Chapter Five
By the time they get to the TARDIS, Rose is exhausted. She sits in the jump seat and yawns. "Where to now?"
The Doctor plugs the screwdriver into the port on the console he uses to charge it. "TARDIS is going into the Vortex, and you are going to the medbay." He starts flipping levers and dials.
Rose groans. "I've been looking forward to my own bed for days."
"Want to monitor your condition. Should be stable now, but..." He looks at her, and she can see the worry and guilt in his eyes. He needs to be sure.
She sighs. "Can't you monitor me in my room, though? Please?"
The Doctor looks at Jack. "Help me move the equipment?"
Jack nods. "Sure."
"Right. C'mon then." He links his arm through hers and they escort her to her room. She sits heavily on the bed - her wonderful, soft bed with the fluffy pink duvet Jack talked a Tristonian clan chief into having made for "the lady who saved the children." She gets up again and walks towards the en-suite before she can talk herself into just curling up and sleeping in her clothes.
"You okay to change into your pyjamas, brush your teeth and whatever?" the Doctor asks.
"Course," she says. She's tired, not an invalid.
"All right. We'll go and get the monitors. Be back in ten minutes." He smiles.
"Gimme twenty." She wants a quick shower at least, and enough time to get ready for bed without rushing.
They nod and leave.
Rose showers, dries herself off and puts on her warmest set of pyjamas - pink flannel her mother gave her for Christmas. Then she finally screws up her nerves and turns to the mirror she's been avoiding. She stands and looks at herself. Her hair's a mess. There's hardly any of it left, but what she does have is still as long as it was, hanging down in curling, untidy wisps. She'll have to shave those off, too, let it all grow back together.
She notices an electric razor on the side of the sink. That wasn't there five minutes ago. She smiles. "Thanks, girl."
She picks it up determinedly and touches it to her forehead. Her hands are shaking. Must be the exhaustion, of course. What else would it be? It's just hair after all.
She presses the button, and the razor lights up and makes a buzzing noise not unlike the screwdriver's. Sonic razor then. Just as well. She slowly moves it back and forth across her scalp, then left to right. Long wisps of hair fall on the floor and into the sink. They seem blurry for some reason, and so does her reflection. She takes a deep breath and keeps going.
There's a knock on her door, and the Doctor's voice calls out, "Rose? You decent?"
"Yeah, come on i-" She loses her voice in a sob. Dammit. It's just hair.
The door opens and the Doctor is by her side faster than should be possible. Jack has to squeeze past the trolley full of equipment to get to her door, but he's not far behind. "Rose, what's wr- Oh." The Doctor looks from her to the razor and back. "Rose... it'll grow again."
Now she can't hold back the sobs anymore. Jack turns her around and holds her tight. In the mirror, she can see him glare at the Doctor.
"Sorry. Was trying to help."
Jack shakes his head and kisses her forehead. "Rose. You have a lovely face. Beautiful eyes. And a great body."
She swats his arse at that, but hopes he won't stop.
He cups her face in his large, warm hands. "You don't need hair to be gorgeous."
The wonderful thing about Jack is, he means it. He has a way of looking at people and seeing right past their blemishes to the beauty. The Doctor means well, and he doesn't care about her hair either, but Jack is a lot better at finding the right words. She leans against him. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make a fuss."
They both shake their heads.
"'S fine."
"Sweetheart, do you want me to get the back for you?" Jack asks.
"Please."
Jack picks up the razor and sits her down on the toilet lid. With a few sure strokes, he cleans up everything she missed. Then he grabs a tube of lotion from the shelf and shows it to her. "Do you want to, or should I?"
Lotion. Right. She wouldn't have though of it, but it's a good idea. She nods at him.
While Jack rubs it in and massages her skull - and wow, where did he learn to do that? - Rose watches the Doctor. He's leaning against the doorjamb, clearly uncomfortable. This is all too domestic for him. And whenever he looks at Jack, there's a shadow of pain in his eyes. Jack, on the other hand, is barely looking at his lover at all.
Rose sighs. "You two need to talk."
The both freeze.
"Please," Rose presses on. "I'll never forgive myself if you break up because of me."
The blokes exchange a glance.
"Rose," Jack says, "None of this is your fault."
The Doctor looks at him, startled. "Also, we're not going to break up... right?"
Jack sighs. "God, I hope not." He picks up the scarf and gently wraps it around her head, tucking in the ends.
"You're right, Rose." The Doctor nods at her. "We do need to talk." She smiles, relieved. The blokes can be so boneheaded sometimes, both too stubborn to take the first step. She's glad she's managed to take it for them.
Jack helps her up. "Let's get you to bed and hooked up to the monitors."
"Yeah. Rather not leave you alone otherwise."
Rose nods tiredly and lets Jack lead her to the bed. She lies down and he covers her with the duvet. He takes a small bottle of water from the trolley and puts it on her bedside table.
The Doctor affixes some blinking patches to her forehead, wrist, and, with a mumbled apology for reaching into her top, right above her collarbone. He starts fumbling with the machine Jack has wheeled next to the bed.
"Signal's coming in fine. I'll just channel it to the screwdr- Dammit, it's still charging." He looks at Jack. "Can you tune your wristcomp into this?"
"Yeah." He starts pressing buttons, and asks in a voice too casual to be real, "Don't suppose you can fix this thing now that we're back here?"
The Doctor flinches. "Not without new parts. Don't have anything that'd fit. But we can look."
Jack nods, not looking up from the wristcomp. What happened to it? Rose decides to ask the Doctor later. The atmosphere is tense enough as it is, and she knows how important the device is to Jack.
There's a beep and Jack holds his wrist out to the Doctor. "Getting clear readings."
"Fantastic. Thank you." He turns to smile at her. "Anything you need, Rose?"
She nods. "I need you two to sort this." The three of them are strongest as a team. And they're not going to be a team anymore with things the way they are between the blokes. She wants them to sort this so they'll be happy, but a small, selfish part of her also wants it for herself.
The Doctor takes her hand and squeezes it gently. "Don't worry." But his eyes show that he does.
*****
Jack throws himself on his bed. The Doctor stands by the door, looking uncomfortable. Jack pats the mattress. "Come on."
"You sure?"
Jack shrugs. "This conversation's going to be uncomfortable enough even with a mattress and blankets."
The Doctor sits on the bed, leaning against the headboard, not quite touching Jack. He hems noncommittally. If only he knew how to start this. Hopefully, Jack will. If Jack puts him on the spot, he might be able to explain his behavior and his feelings. Jack brings that out in him.
"Right," Jack starts, staring at the ceiling. "Out with it, then. What do you need from me? Another apology? Want me to beg?" He turns onto his side and looks at the Doctor. The bitterness in his eyes belies the easy tone. "Beat me, maybe?"
What the bloody hell? The Doctor stares at him, speechless. "I'd never..." Damn, what has the lad been thinking? Has he really done such a piss-poor job of making him believe that he doesn't blame him? He mentally reviews the past few days. Seems like he has. "You don't need to ask my forgiveness."
Jack's voice turns brittle. "No, I don't. I did the right thing. But clearly you're not getting over it. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes so you will. Blame me, punish me, I don't care. I just want to put this behind us."
The Doctor shakes his head. Great. Not only was he not part of the solution to their problem, as far as Jack is concerned, he is the problem. "Was going to apologize to you."
Jack raises an eyebrow. "Really?" He cocks his head.
The Doctor nods. "You did do the right thing. An' I've been a git about it." He holds Jack's gaze. It's hard, but he wants him to see he's not lying.
Jack looks at him silently. A corner of his mouth is twitching.
"I'm trying, Jack, really I am, it's just..."
"… the way you're wired?" Jack asks.
He nods.
And there it is, right there in Jack's eyes - the understanding and willingness to forgive that make his human lover so fantastic. That allow the Doctor to say things like this.
"It makes me sick when I think of what you did." A frown from Jack, so he pushes on. "I don't blame you. You saved Rose. I just... wish I could forget how." As Jack can. As he already would have if the Doctor's behavior wasn't a constant reminder that all is not right.
After a moment, Jack grins and straddles his thighs. He puts a hand on the Doctor's zip and starts rubbing slow circles. "Wanna see if I can make you forget?"
The Doctor blinks. That wasn't what he'd expected. He hesitates. He wants Jack - damn, so much - but he's not sure he'll be able to relax into this right now.
"C'mon, Doc. Nothing like getting back on the camel to get over a shock."
He nods and forces a grin. "Right you are." He reaches to open his zip.
Jack shakes his head. "Let me."
The Doctor sags back and makes an effort to relax his tense muscles. Jack opens his flies and takes out the Doctor's cock, cradling it gently. The Doctor's completely flaccid - the last few days have taken their toll - but Jack knows how to change that. His skillful fingers play over all the Doctor's most sensitive spots. Jack knows just where to stroke, where to rub, where to put pressure, and that little spot hidden by his foreskin where a light scratch with a fingernail will make the blood flow surge.
It only takes him eighty-one seconds until the Doctor's cock is erect, poking out of his trousers hot and hard. Jack sits back, looking at the Doctor's cock with a wide grin. He teasingly strokes his index finger along the very sensitive base of the head a few times. The Doctor groans. It takes all his self-control not to thrust up. His eyes are fixed on Jack's.
"Isn't this more fun than fretting about the past?" His lover throws him a saucy grin and bends towards his desperately straining cock.
The Doctor can feel that Jack's not much better off - a hard bulge is pressing into his thigh through both their jeans. He stretches out a hand. "Want me to-"
"Later. Let's take care of you first."
The Doctor hisses with pleasure as Jack's lips close around his shaft. His tongue is playing over the head in light, teasing circles. It's wonderful and almost unbearable at the same time.
He watches Jack's dark head bob up and down in his lap, his lips stroking the length of the Doctor's cock, which is getting ever harder, darker, throbbing with lust-
And suddenly the scene shifts. Instead of Jack's bedroom, he sees a dingy back room full of storage crates. Instead of his own cock, he sees Jack's head bobbing up and down on a fat violet G'nudulak dick, his hands cradling a pair of puce balls...
The image is too much to bear. He feels his erection flag. Jack looks up at him, a question in his eyes. A strangled "no" forces its way past the Doctor's throat. He pushes Jack away with a desperate "get off," too nauseous to bear the closeness. The back room turns into their bedroom again just as he watches his erection - his own, dark red with not a hint of violet - wilt like a waterlily in the desert.
*****
Jack crawls backwards, putting the length of the bed between them. The pain is trying to swallow him whole. He wants to protest, to rage that it's unfair, that he needs his lover's touch as much as the Doctor needs his - but the Doctor said no, and there's only one response to that. "Want me to leave?"
"No!" The Doctor looks at him, alarmed. "Never."
The degree of panic in the Doctor's eyes makes Jack realize that the Doctor thought he meant the TARDIS, not this room. Maybe he did. He's not sure. He sighs and sits cross-legged in the corner furthest from the Doctor. There's nothing to say, so he doesn't.
The Doctor looks at him as if he's waiting for something.
"What?" he asks, completely failing to keep the bitterness and raw pain out of his voice.
The Doctor looks down and rubs his neck. "Was hoping you'd... fix this."
"Me?" What the hell? Like this is his fault? He was nicely moving things along, trying to get back to normal, when the Doctor decided to treat his lover's attentions like an assault. How dare he demand now-
"Well, not like I can, is it?" The Doctor's staring at his hands, and his voice is barely audible. "Rubbish at domestics, me. Give me a kino-temporal paradox loop any day, but you're the one who knows how to..." He looks up at Jack, shrugging helplessly.
Oh. Okay, that's different. The Doctor's asking for help, not accusing him. He can work with this. Patience. Jack sighs and mentally summons up the state of detachment his mediation trainer called "the calm place." Find the problem. Analyze the problem. Find the central knot and untie it.
He looks at the Doctor. "What just happened?"
The Doctor blinks.
"Not physically. I was there for that." Despite his anger, he can still feel his erection straining inside his jeans. "You said you didn't blame me. You said you wanted to get back to normal. You seemed happy enough when we started. What changed?"
The Doctor bites his lip and looks away.
"Do you want me to fix this or not?"
A nod. "I... saw you with one of them."
"What? When?" God, did the Doctor follow him to the bar?
"Just now." He touches his temple. "In here."
"You... imagined seeing me with another bloke?" Yeah, that's not healthy. Unless one's into cuckolding, which the Doctor is not.
"Have been ever since... Know I shouldn't. Know I'm only driving myself crazy. But I can't get the pictures out of my head."
"That's the problem? Whenever you look at me, you see me with someone else?"
The Doctor's eyes show guilt. "'M sorry. Know it's not fair."
Epiphany strikes. Jack knows just what to do now. At least he hopes so. It's a bit crazy, but their best plans usually are. He jumps off the bed. "Wait here."
"What?"
Jack grins. "You want me to fix this. I know how to fix this. But I'm going to need half an hour to get ready. Stay here."
The Doctor frowns, but nods. "Right."
Jack bends down and firmly kisses his lips. "Try not to obsess while I'm gone."
An awkward laugh. "I'll try."
Jack leaves the room. He checks his wristcomp to make sure Rose is fast asleep, then he sets off to begin his preparations.
*****
The Doctor paces. He's been making mental lists - TARDIS maintenance chores he needs to do, supplies they need to stock up on - sorted into food, tech, and sundry - likely places to acquire them with the smallest possible number of trips, planets he really wants to show Jack and Rose, planets he really needs to keep Jack and Rose away from, planets where there's a bounty on his head, planets where he knows for a fact that there either is one on Jack's or would be within five minutes of him setting foot outside... He's running out of ways to keep from obsessing. It's been thirty-one minutes and twelve seconds.
Of course, when Jack said "half an hour," he meant it in the sloppy human sense. He's probably still "preparing." The Doctor sighs. He trusts Jack - the lad is very good at reading and manipulating people, and right now the Doctor wants to be manipulated back to normality. He just wishes he knew the plan.
The door opens and Jack comes in, looking excited. He's still wearing the same outfit as before - clearly his preparations had nothing to do with personal grooming. He holds a hand out to the Doctor. "Come with me."
He takes the hand, but frowns. "Where to?"
Jack grins. "You'll see."
As they leave Jack's room, the Doctor nods towards his wristcomp. "How's Rose?"
"Sleeping. Good vitals."
He nods.
Jack squeezes his hand. "Now, when we get there, you have to promise me you'll try to just relax and follow my lead, all right?"
"Follow your lead with what?"
Jack shakes his head. "That's the problem exactly." He presses a quick peck to the Doctor's temple without breaking stride. "You think too much. Always analyzing, questioning, imagining..."
"Can't help it."
"I know. But for the next hour or so, just try, yeah? Try to focus on the here and now. Stay in the moment with me. You're a Time Lord, I don't need to tell you how vast they are."
The Doctor raises an eyebrow. The Vastness of Moments is a very advanced concept of temporal theory. It has to do with potentials, with the way every single moment contains endless possibilities to shape, destroy and create... He wonders how much of the theory Jack truly understands. He'll have to ask him sometime.
But not now. Because clearly, right now they're on a mission. A mission to - hang on...
"We goin' to the zero-g room?" he asks.
Jack grins and turns the final corner that will get them there. "Remember what you promised." He stops outside the door. "Ready?"
Why would the lad think that zero-g sex will come any easier to him than the regular kind? Still, he promised to go with it. He nods, and Jack hits the door opener.
The doors slides back and they both step forward. The room still has gravity - it's hard on the TARDIS to maintain a separate anti-grav field without a physical barrier, so they never switch it on before the door is closed behind them. As the door glides shut, the Doctor looks around. In every direction, he sees himself staring back.
The floor, the walls, the ceilings, and even the handholds and other structures they use to move around when the anti-grav field is on are covered in mirrors. Not just any mirrors, either - Swarolin crystal mirrors, which reflect images perfectly, without the slightest distortion, and are resistant to impact and dirt.
The mirrors are angled cleverly, too - wherever he looks, he can see himself from the front, the back, or the side, just by turning his head a few degrees. Reflections, reflections of reflections, reflections of reflections of reflections, and so on to infinity - and every single one perfectly clear and undistorted. Thank the stars he's not given to vertigo.
A sweet aroma makes him breath in deeply. "Coconut?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Remember that night on Rotico Prime when we rented the jungle suite?"
The Doctor nods, and feels his mouth curve into a smile, as it never fails to do when that memory is brought up. It had been... adventurous. The first time Jack got him to really let go, admit to curiosities and try out experiences he'd barely dared to think about before.
"Smell is the strongest memory trigger there is." Jack pauses and cocks his head. "For humans."
He smiles. "It works pretty well for Time Lords, too."
"Great. I want you to stay in the moment, but I thought it'd help create a mood." He puts his hand on the anti-grav button. "Are you ready?"
"I'm still not sure what-"
"Ready for the zero-g?"
He nods. Jack presses the button. They both push off.
The Doctor has more experience than Jack in zero-g - largely due to the age difference - but Jack has natural grace and elegance. The Doctor can get from A to B - and even to gamma, epsilon and th1r#*b - in zero-g easily enough, but seeing Jack move without the constraints of gravity is like watching a skilled ballet or a swarm of Isolus. He dives and turns in elegant curves, using the structures in the room to push off or pirouette. And seeing him do it in perfect synchronicity with myriad flawless reflections - the Doctor feels heat pulsing in his groin before either of them loses a single piece of clothing.
Speaking of. If this is headed where he's sure it is, clothing will soon be surplus to requirements. He shrugs out of his jacket and starts fumbling with his belt, using gentle movements to avoid drifting into any of the structures.
Jack wraps himself around the Doctor from behind. "Let me worry about that." He gently turns the Doctor's head to the left, where four angled mirrors show four perfect reflections of them - from the front, from behind, from above and from the left. "You just look at us. Whatever you do, keep looking at us."
Ah. So that's the plan. As Jack opens the Doctor's belt and undoes his jeans, then pushes himself down - and the Doctor up - to open the laces on his leather boots, the Doctor watches him and considers. He's not sure this will work. Seeing himself with Jack, smelling the coconut, being forced to concentrate on the here and now because the zero-g requires him to focus on movements that would normally be automatic - yes, all of this might keep him from seeing visions of Jack with G'nudulak customers. But on the other hand--
He feels his arse sharply pinched through his briefs. "Hey! Stay with me. No brooding."
Right. He shakes his head and returns his focus to the reflections. Jack's bundling his jeans and boots into the leather jacket now. Then he grabs the edge of the jumper and yanks downward.
"Oi!" He reflexively throws up his arms.
"Need to make sure you're paying attention." Jack grins. He pushes off a foothold, keeping hold of the jumper, and drifts up, pulling it neatly over the Doctor's head.
The Doctor watches as Jack adds the jumper to the bundle and stuffs his clothes into a hidden compartment in one of the pillars. "Make sure you don't forget where you put it."
"Like you don't have twenty-three identical sets." Jack grins.
The Doctor pushes himself upwards and swats Jack's arse. "Notice you're still fully clothed." He looks him up and down with a raised eyebrow.
Jack grabs his arm and uses it to pull them close together. He gently tips the Doctor's chin to the ceiling - or is that a wall? He's not quite sure anymore. "Don't watch me. Watch us."
The Jack in the reflection now kicks off his own shoes and quickly wraps them in his t-shirt. "Might need help with the jeans," he leers.
The Doctor reaches for Jack's belt, but the unusual perspective in the mirror makes him miss and grab Jack's groin instead. Jack hisses, but it doesn't sound like a complaint. The Doctor sees his own cock twitch. It's growing darker and thicker every second.
Jack strokes a finger along his shaft. The Doctor looks down at his lover. That gets him a sharp pinch. "Don't look at me. Keep looking at us!"
The Doctor nods and looks straight ahead. The wall - ceiling, floor, what does it matter - behind Jack shows his own face, focused and a bit anxious, and Jack's back, his jeans slowly sliding down to reveal more and more of his arse.
The Doctor enjoys the view. He likes Jack's arse. His own always seems a bit flat and bony to him, but Jack's is perfectly rounded and with just the right amount of padding. He sees himself grin. It's a good arse.
He gasps as a different sensation floods his system. His eyes in the mirror are dark and wide. Turning his head by a fraction, he can see - through a series of reflections reflecting each other - a side view of himself and Jack. They are both naked now - he's not sure where Jack's clothes disappeared to so quickly, but suspects another hidden cubby hole - and both their penises are proudly erect. Jack has a hand gently wrapped around both their cocks from below, using the leverage to rub them against each other.
The Doctor looks up, getting the bird's eye view so Jack's hand isn't in the way. Jack's cock is slowly gliding along the tip of his own and dancing up and down the shaft. Jack's got a bit of length on him, though the Doctor's got more girth. It makes it feel as if Jack's touching all of him at once. The dusky hue, a few shades darker than the lad's natural skin tone, complements his own dark red in a way he never noticed before. They just seem to... fit.
He wonders if Jack's cock looked so good against any of his custom-
Before he can even finish the thought, there's a slight dip in his erection, and then a sudden sharp pain as Jack digs in a fingernail.
"Oi!" the Doctor protests.
"Stay here with me. Keep your mind on us." Jack's voice is low and husky. He puts his hands on the Doctor's hips and pushes him up - and himself down - until his face is inches from the Doctor's groin. "I'm not going to be able to talk for a bit, so I need you to keep looking at us." His breath feels hot against the Doctors balls. "I want you to see who I'm doing this with." Jack plays his tongue along the Doctor's slit. "Don't let your mind drift. And don't close your eyes."
The Doctor nods, and turns his head to the right. A field of slightly angled mirrors presents him with views of him and Jack from above, his right, and Jack's back. The latter is upside-down, but still clear.
He watches himself as Jack slowly swallows him down. At first he looks tense, but when Jack's lips tighten on his base, his face goes slack, and when Jack starts sucking - blimey, does his grin always look that goofy when Jack blows him? Do his ears always turn that shade of red?
He lets his gaze wander to Jack's reflection - focused expression, mouth moving around the Doctor's cock with relaxed ease while his hands anchor them to each other. So beautiful. Why would anyone so beautiful want a silly, big-eared, big-nosed-
An eye tooth digs into his foreskin a bit too hard for comfort. He yelps and looks down. Jack rolls his eyes and pointedly looks at the mirror.
The Doctor looks back at their reflection - docked together, Jack's focus so completely on him, as if nothing else existed in the universe. He sees himself shiver - strange, he doesn't feel cold. He looks straight ahead, where a mirror shows the scene from his back - all he can see of Jack there are his hands on his hips and his legs reaching out past the Doctor's feet.
His feet, which, he realizes now that he sees it, are curling and uncurling with pleasure. He stills them with an effort.
Without meaning to, he starts thrusting. He looks down, startled, and sees Jack winking up at him, taking the movement easily. Looking back to the mirror, he sees his own arse tense. He's about to-
Jack pulls away, shoves himself upwards, and swallows the Doctor's frustrated groan in a greedy kiss. "Not yet," he whispers, his teeth teasing the edge of the Doctor's ear. "I want you to come inside me."
"Your mouth is inside you," the Doctor growls.
Jack laughs and pokes the ticklish spot below his navel, making him squirm. "Let's do this slowly. It'll be worth it." He stretches to reach the nearest handhold and looks around. "D'you happen to know which direction is normally the floor?"
The Doctor rolls his eyes. "Where the bottom of the door is."
Jack chuckles unabashedly. "Knew I fell in love with a genius." He counts the pillars and pulls himself sideways - though normally that would be down. "Follow me."
The Doctor wants to make a biting comment, but his cock seems to be following Jack of its own accord, and he has no choice but to tag along.
They arrive at a beam with two handholds. Jack pulls open a drawer and produces a small tube. He opens it and carefully spreads a creamy paste on the Doctor's cock, keeping his touch maddeningly light.
The Doctor tries to keep his voice steady. "Not Brenusian nut oil this - time?" The last word turns into a squeal when Jack circles the base of his head.
"Wanted something with more viscosity for zero-g. Don't want loose drops hovering all over the room."
The scent hits the Doctor and shoots straight to his cock. He can't quite describe it, but it's rich and musky and wonderful, and the soft cream spread all over his straining cock feels so good he could probably come then and there if he as much as bumped Jack's leg.
Jack grins. "Like it?"
"What is it?" he asks through clenched teeth. Only Jack's arm on his shoulder prevents him from floating off, too overwhelmed to worry about body control.
"Well, in a word - it's me." Jack leers.
The Doctor understands. "You made a synthetic version of your own pheromones, mixed it with medical lubricant."
"Eau de Jack." He winks. "You like?"
The Doctor just nods. Any attempt to form words might end in more embarrassing squeaks.
Jack turns around and grabs two handholds, his back to the Doctor. "What I've put on you is plenty. Let's get to it." The tightness in his voice betrays his own urgency.
The Doctor makes a sound of protest. "Not like this. I want to see you face-to-face."
Jack shakes his head. "This is better. Look ahead."
The Doctor does - and gasps. From their position, he can see the two of them from all sides, but best of all, from the front. He bends forward and puts his chin on Jack's shoulder, leaning their faces together. And there they are, in the mirror, their eyes locked on each other, and so, so close.
He puts a hand on Jack's arse and starts massaging gently, teasing his opening with a finger.
"I'm good," Jack growls, but the Doctor shakes his head.
"Said it yourself. Let's do this slowly." He kisses Jack's jaw, never taking his eyes of their reflection. "Want to savor this."
Jack grins. "Just so you know - when you're inside me, I'm letting go of the handholds."
Drifting in mid-air, held by nothing but their joined bodies. Suddenly savoring the prep doesn't seem quite as important anymore. He moves his finger inside Jack a few times, adds a second with a bit more haste than most partners would enjoy, and is of course rewarded with an appreciative moan from Jack. In the mirror, he sees Jack's cock strain for the ceiling - technically the floor - and when he puts both hands on Jack's hips and starts slowly pushing inside him, Jack cock twitches as if he's about to come just from that.
The moment the Doctor's balls touch his arse, Jack lets go, pushing them off with a bit of a twirl. They're slowly turning in the center of the room, joined together, and wherever the Doctor looks, he sees himself and Jack. No one else.
"This won't take long," he mumbles into Jack's ear.
"Y'think?" Jack gasps.
A few thrusts into the warmth and softness that is Jack, and he's right at the brink, holding himself back by sheer force of will. He pulls out half-way, reaches around Jack, wraps one hand around his lover's cock and the other arm around his hips. One more thrust and a few deft strokes are all it takes - they both come, cheeks pressed together, the mirrors reflecting thousands of identical expressions of rapture.
Jack and the Doctor. And no one else.
*****
Rose wakes up slowly, feeling truly rested for the first time since before the potato museum. She stretches luxuriously and glances at all the monitors next to her bed. She has no idea how to read them, but nothing looks mauve, so she's probably fine.
She gets up to use the bathroom. She's brushing her teeth when there's a frantic knock on the door. "Rose?" the Doctor's worried voice shouts. "You all right?"
"Yesh!" she yells "But don' come in." She spits and hurriedly pulls on her bathrobe. "All right," she shouts.
The door opens and the Doctor slips in, followed by a chuckling Jack. "Told you she'd just walked out of range, Doc."
"Yeah, yeah. Right clever, you are." He looks at her sheepishly. "You life signal suddenly cut out." He gestures at Jack's wrist, which, Rose notes with a smile, is wrapped tightly around his waist. "Just wanted to be sure you're okay."
Rose nods, then cracks up as she sees Jack mouthing "mother hen" over the Doctor's shoulder.
The Doctor's hand lands on Jack's arse with smack. "I heard that."
"No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't." He grins. "But don't go mouthing stuff if I can see you in the mirror, either."
For some reason, both blokes' eyes seem to soften at the word "mirror," and their bodies sag against each other.
Rose smiles. "I see you talked."
Jack grins. "There was... some talking."
The tips of the Doctor's ears turn pink. "Jack..." he says warningly.
Jack is opening his mouth to say something that would no doubt earn him another smack, but Rose cuts him off. "No details. Please. As long as you've dealt with it."
Jack chuckles. "You could say we dealt with the... gravity of the situation, yes."
The Doctor rolls his eyes. "So, what do you want to do today?" he asks, in his cheerful "Let's change the topic right now" voice.
"Well... if you'll let me finish getting ready," Rose says, pointedly looking at her robe and the bathroom door, "I was hoping we could go and buy some of that hair stimulant Jack was talking about. And maybe some hats."
They exchange a dubious glance. "Sure you're up to that, hon?" Jack asks.
She nods.
The Doctor shakes his head. "Really, Rose, I'd rather you spent today in bed. Or on the sofa. We could watch films."
Rose looks at her bare feet. "But... the sooner I start using the stimulant, the sooner it'll start working, right?" God, she hates that she's still so self-conscious about her silly hair.
Jack nods. "How about the Doctor and I go and buy it right now, while you're getting ready?" He turns to the Doctor. "You land us on the Kashmere Plaza anywhen after the 50th century, and I duck into a shop and pick some up? Can be back before breakfast."
The Doctor nods. "All right. You take your time, Rose. Go to the screening room when you're ready, we'll bring toast and tea."
Later that day, leaning in the corner of the sofa with a blanket, her scalp tingling pleasantly from the stimulant, Rose watches the blokes curled up together more tightly than a pair of socks. The Doctor's grumbling about "Jack's cuddling needs," of course - but every time Jack scoots away to grab a snack or adjust her blanket, he makes very sure to pull him close again as soon as he's done.
She grins and returns her attention to the screen. Jack swore that this Shakespeare interpretation from his century would blow her mind. It has - mostly because she didn't expect so many water buffaloes. But she does agree with the title. All's Well that Ends Well.
The End
Prompt: Our Heroes are caught in a situation where the Doctor's only choice is to pimp Jack out, or let his companions be killed horribly. He's completely helpless with no aces up his sleeve. I'd like him to spend at least a little time believing Jack is off somewhere having sex with someone else, but whether that really happens is up to you. Jack can have all the aces up his sleeve he wants! Happy ending please (of course).