phinnia: ten <3's jack (doctor/ten-mini-ten-and-jack)
phinnia ([personal profile] phinnia) wrote2011-07-15 09:21 pm
Entry tags:

Saturday Night's Alright (ten/jack, nc-17)

title: Saturday Night's Alright
author: [personal profile] phinnia
prompt: [profile] kiss_bingo: body: hands
pairing: ten/jack
rating: nc-17
warnings: m/m sex
author's note: part of a short but apparently growing AU where COE never happened and Ten is trying to be more decent to his friends (including Jack) after losing Rose to the magma clamp. Follows 'I've Got Rhythm' but can be read alone.



They had had a stupid fight last night, their first since Jack had come back to stay. It was so stupid that he lay awake half the night convinced he was completely right, and then paced the bedroom for the other half of the night muttering to himself how stupid he was, and by morning he hadn't slept at all and had completely forgotten what the stupid fight was about, but he still felt like seven shades of shit.

The Doctor, of course, did not bother to come to bed. The Doctor had probably spent all night in the console room tinkering. Come rain or shine, richer or poorer, when things were going well or when the going got tough - the Doctor always tinkered.

"That's what you get for falling for an impossible nine hundred year old alien, dumbass." Jack sighed, running his fingers through his hair and stumbling toward the sonic shower.

He felt marginally better after his shower, but still wasn't looking forward to a potentially snippy Doctor. Of course he didn't want to be accused of being snippy himself, so hiding in his room like a sullen teenager wasn't going to help, but -


"Jack! You're awake. Thought of anywhere in particular you might want to go today? Anything you might want to see?"

Or ... maybe not? "Uh, I'm okay anywhere you want to go."

"We always go where I want to go."

"Um. Okay. Give me a few minutes, Doc, I'm still half asleep."

"Tea? Coffee?"

"Tea sounds great."

Jack slumped down on the jump seat and sighed. Instead of snippy-Doctor, now he got ... some different kind of weird Doctor instead, who seemed intent on deferring to him.


***

The Doctor had been too afraid to come any closer to their shared bedroom than the hallway for the entire night. He knew Jack didn't want to see him - as much as he wanted to apologise to Jack - so it would have to wait until the morning.

He couldn't even get his mind on tinkering, it was that bad; he just sort of stared at their coats hanging together over one of the coral struts near the door, and let his eyes go unfocused for a few minutes: and if his cheeks were wet afterward, well, no one was around except the TARDIS, and she wasn't talking.

That was last night. Today he was just hoping Jack wasn't going to leave. He looked like hell - like he hadn't slept at all - so maybe they were both of a piece? Or maybe Jack had spent the entire night packing and was just trying to figure out how to break it to him? Maybe--

"Doctor!"

"What?!"

"The kettle's boiling." Jack reached over his shoulder and unplugged it. "It's been whistling at you for the past five minutes. Everything okay?"

This close, Jack smelled delicious - the pheromones of course, and a light musk that was simply Jack - The Doctor stamped thoroughly on his libido. "Fine, everything's fine. Just was thinking."

"Absent-minded Time Lord." Jack purred fondly, running one hand through the Doctor's spikey hair, massaging his scalp with one broad hand. "What were you thinking about?"

"Things." the Doctor admitted, his voice sounding rough in his own ears. He couldn't help but lean into Jack's fingers running through his hair, though - that was one of his kinks and Jack knew it, exploited it shamelessly at every turn. "You mostly. Oh, Jack, don't leave."

"Wasn't going to." Jack's other arm wrapped around the Doctor's shoulders. "Told you, you can't get rid of me that easily. Do you even remember what we were fighting about? I don't."

"I don't care, as long as you're going to stay. No. Wait. I do care - I mean - I care in that I don't want it to happen again, but -"

Jack laughed and stepped away, grabbing the Doctor's hand instead. "I'll stop exploiting you into confusion with head rubs. At least until we're naked. You're just so damn adorable."

***

Jack tugged the Doctor toward their ensuite bathroom, grinning at the Doctor's confusion as they passed the bed.

"I thought we were going to -"

"Oh, we are." Jack's grin was positively filthy. "I just thought we'd try something different. I had an idea earlier when I was rubbing your head."

Into the water shower this time, coaxing a confused and naked Time Lord along with him.

"Jack, if we have a slip and fall accident --"

"The TARDIS will not let us have a slip and fall accident, hush." The floor of the shower morphed below them and suddenly became slightly softer, more forgiving, with non-slip bumps in the tile. "Thank you, honey." Jack smiled, brushing a wall in pleased thanks.

Jack reached up to grab some of the Doctor's favorite shampoo - something that is really more akin to a smoothie, really, with bananas and almonds and goat milk and whey protein, but he has to admit it makes the guy's hair look fantastic - and starts to massage it into the Doctor's hair.

The Doctor moans. "Did I ever tell you how amazing your hands are?"

"No." Jack smiles, continuing with his massage. He has switched to soap now and no part of that gorgeous body gets left out, from the Doctor's pinky toe to his long neck to the ticklish creases on the backs of his knees. He spends seven minutes on his cock alone, but so slowly that the Doctor can't get off yet, it just adds exponentially to the arousal building up.

"You have amazing hands. 's one of the things I l - really like about you."

Jack's smile broadens at the Doctor's slip of the tongue. "Well, thank you. Time to rinse, sweethearts." He tips the Time Lord's chin up so nothing rinses in his eyes, and then gets everything out of his hair.

"Now that you're all clean." Jack whispers in the Doctor's ear, "it's time to get dirty again. You get to choose: do you want to come in my amazing hands, or do you want to come in my mouth?"

"Hands, your hands." the Doctor captures one between long, cooler fingers and kisses it, sucks two fingers in his mouth greedily, like Jack's an ice cream cone.


"Maybe we should move this to the bed?" Jack laughs, shuts off the water. The TARDIS has provided some fluffy towels of the softest cotton to be found. Each dries off the other between deep, breath-stealing kisses, but it's more groping than any real actual attempt at drying.

Finally they are on the bed, The Doctor wraps his hips around Jack, lining them up together - and then he pins Jack to the bed so he's on top (an interesting changeup, and one that Jack will never complain about). Jack grins wildly up at his Doctor and takes them both in hand, squeezing to a steady but gentle rhythm that he knows will send the Doctor to pieces.

Jack loves being on the bottom when they do this, because the underside of the Doctor's cock has lovely ridges that make him feel amazing.

He rolls his hips, squeezes, grins at the Doctor's blissful face with a tiny wrinkle between the eyebrows. Oh yeah. He's close now and Jack knows it - the uneven panting, the slight whimper on every thrust - he's close and doesn't know what he needs. Poor bastard - Jack's been there.

Jack rolls them to their sides again and pops one finger in his mouth, gets it nice and wet - then just slides it oh-so- gently along the sensitive skin just inside the crack of the doctor's arse. They haven't tried anything penetrative yet - he's still trying to get the Doctor used to feeling relaxed and sensual (not locking all those feelings away like he'd been conditioned) and getting him used to asking for what he wants in bed (at least selecting from a list).

Jack's in no hurry - but it does mean that small touches should be enough to bring the Time Lord off.

The Doctor's shouts escalate into a scream, and he looks positively dazed as he falls off Jack and onto their bed. Jack feels fire in his shoulder - a bitemark, the Doctor has bitten him, he is seriously the luckiest bastard alive - and it's the combination of shock and pain of it, plus witnessing the Doctor lose control like this, that makes him come.

"Are you okay?" Jack touches the Doctor's elbow gently, draws him close before he can start any serious self-loathing.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" the Time Lord's voice is a bit shaky. "Sorry I, um, bit you."

"Don't be. Don't ever be." Jack grins like a wild thing. "I like it - I like that I can make you let your guard down like that. I like being marked like that. And I heal fast anyway."

The Doctor nods, rests his head on Jack's chest. "Is this why humans argue so much?"

"Is what why humans argue so much?"

"So they can have sex and make up?"

"It's a good theory." Jack buried his nose in his Time Lord's still-damp hair. "But we can have as much sex as you want without arguing, so let's not, okay? I hate arguing with you. Makes me feel ... off balance."

The Doctor kissed Jack's bitemark. "Me too."