Doctor Who/Torchwood Fic: What Doesn't Kill You, Jack/Ten, 2/3

[joolz]

As the world began to dim in the twilight, the Doctor noticed Jack starting to get restless. After standing and staring out to sea for a while, the immortal man said, "I'm going for a walk."

"Right," the Doctor replied, but Jack was already disappearing into the darkness along the shoreline, round white buttocks the last thing visible. The Doctor shook his head. He might at some point get used to Jack wandering around naked, but he still found it a bit startling.

After tidying up the remains of their dinner, the Doctor started to get restless, too. He thought about going back into the TARDIS to run some more diagnostics, but it didn't appeal. In the end he decided to stretch his legs as well, and set out for his own walk.

Instead of following the shoreline as Jack had, he chose the slightly more scrambly path along the tree line. On one side of him the ocean glittered in the light of the rising moon, and on the other side the muffled noises of the forest at night provided a piquant contrast. It was a pleasant change from the grey mechanization of the Valiant, and the Doctor found himself soaking in the peace that surrounded him.

After half an hour of climbing over Ironwood roots and avoiding the shells of fallen coconuts, he rounded a bend to see a long curved bay that led to cliffs in the distance. The tide was out, so there was a wide strip of sandy beach, and the moon cast dramatic shadows that were very pleasing. The Doctor's thoughts strayed to Rose for a moment, and he wished she were there to see it. It didn't do to dwell on that, though.

As his eyes adjusted to the scene, he noticed someone on the beach about half way around the bay. Jack, most likely. The Doctor continued forward until he could see the figure properly, and then stopped. The peace of the evening crashed around him as though it had never been and his stomach cramped.

It was Jack. He was kneeling at the shore facing inland, the waves lapping just around his legs. His arm went up and his fist came down to hit the wet sand with all his strength, again and again. The Doctor was far enough away that he couldn't hear over the rumble of the ocean, but he could see that Jack's mouth was wide open in an extended, repeated scream. There was a glint of tears on his cheeks.

The Doctor forgot to breathe as the past year became real to him in a way that hadn't previously penetrated his grief. He wasn't the only one hurting. There were real consequences of the Master's reign of terror for people he cared very much about. Jack always seemed to bounce back so quickly from everything that was done to him, with a smile and a joke at the ready. This was there underneath it though; anger, rage against his fear and powerlessness, pain.

He could feel the clench of Jack’s shoulders, the anguish in the droop of his head, the burn in his throat, as if it were his own, and was shaken to the core. He would give anything to be able to truly take it on himself instead.

He wondered when this had happened. When had he begun to care so much for Jack Harkness, the extroverted flyboy? When had Jack’s pain become his pain, Jack’s joy his joy? It must have happened some time during the last year while the Doctor was distracted, because he honestly hadn't known.

He shouldn't be here, the Doctor realized with growing distress. This was private and he wasn't supposed to see it. He forced himself to turn away and trudged back to the tree line. The walk back to the TARDIS passed in a blur that was punctuated only by the need to clear his stomach of its last meal. When he reached their comfortable haven he dropped into the sand and leaned his forehead against his drawn-up knees.

Despair at all the pain he was responsible for beckoned the Doctor, and it would have been easy to give in to it. He pulled his considerable inner resources to him, though, and made a different decision.

More grief wouldn't help anything. What would help, what he could do, was acknowledge Jack and move on from the set of rules for proper behaviour he had established for himself long ago. He'd never accepted the rules other people tried to force on him, so why had he made so many for himself? Don't get attached. Don't let anyone see how you really feel, and always pretend that you're unaware of their emotions. Say goodbye and don't look back. They hadn't exactly been working for him lately, nor for the people around him, if he was honest.

On the beach, why hadn't he gone to Jack and held him the way he'd held the Master at the end? So many times he hadn't been there for Jack when he should have been. He couldn't go back and do it all over, but he could be here for him now.

He owed Jack some honesty, and more besides, and there was no time like the present to start. The Doctor stood up and shook himself. There might be things worthy of fear in the universe, but Jack Harkness wasn't one of them. Looking around at their cosy campsite, he started to make plans.

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Jack felt enervated as he walked back toward the TARDIS. Drained, but more at peace. It was a great relief to feel the dammed-up tension start to clear. He was broken open and sensitised, making the sand under his feet seem rougher and the evening breeze bite sharper.

When he reached the part of the beach they had staked out for themselves he almost didn't recognize it. Frowning, he looked at the large tartan blanket that had been spread out on the flat sand above the tide line, scattered with throw pillows. There were small candles in clear glass jars set into the sand along the top edge, creating an inviting little oasis.

"Doctor?" he said.

The Time Lord stepped into the candlelight carrying an ice bucket with a bottle of wine and two long-stemmed glasses.

"Oh, there you are," he said brightly. "Have a nice walk?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Good!" The Doctor deposited the items on the edge of the blanket. "Join me for a glass of wine? It's a d'Auvenay 2027 Chevalier-Montrachet. Good year, that. The sun almost exploding seemed to give the grapes an extra oomph."

Jack had to chuckle. "I don't want to know. Wine sounds great."

The Doctor further surprised Jack by unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off, and he stared at the slender torso that was revealed. More than slender. Jack could count the ribs showing through the tightly stretched layer of skin.

"Um, Doctor? Why are you taking your clothes off?"

"Just being sociable." He unzipped his trousers and pushed them and the white briefs off as well. "You've been letting me look at you all day. Only seems fair to return the favour." Prominent hip bones, long limbs and yes, a more than adequate set of personal parts joined the show.

Unnerved, Jack managed to say, "I certainly appreciate the gesture. Very much, in fact. Just a little surprised, is all."

The Doctor didn't respond, but sat down cross-legged on the blanket and picked up a wine glass. "Are you coming?"

Jack couldn't decide quite how lewd his answer should be, so he just said, "Yes," and lowered himself beside the Doctor.

The Doctor filled both wine glasses and handed one to Jack. In the candle light the wine glowed golden, and it was rich with subtle flavours; tart, yet sweetened with apple and spiced honey overtones, and oh, so smooth.

As delightful as the wine was, it wasn't really enough to distract Jack from the fact that the Doctor was sitting next to him naked. And looking surprisingly relaxed, too, all things considered.

He leaned closer and turned up the heat in his voice just a bit. "You do realize that by human standards this setting would be considered quite romantic, don't you? Seductive, even."

The Doctor met Jack's eyes over his wine glass and said, with some heat of his own, "That would be true by most standards. Do you object?"

Jack was confused to the point of wondering if he was hallucinating, but even so he knew what came next. "Not a bit," he breathed, and closed the distance between them, brushing his lips against the Doctor's.

The Doctor tasted earthy, almost smoky, like sautéed mushrooms. It was exactly how he would expect time to taste if it had a flavour; deep and mysterious. He immediately needed more, and pressed closer to the Doctor.

Jack's wine glass bumped into the other man's chest and Jack pulled back, took the Doctor's glass from his hand and set them both down in the sand beside the blanket. He then turned back to the Doctor and ran his fingers over the high cheekbones and up into the tousled hair. Holding the deep, brown eyes with his own, he said, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I don’t," the Doctor said matter-of-factly. "You don’t either. ‘S on offer, though, if you want it.”

"It’s just that it’s so sudden."

"Not really," the Doctor corrected him. "You always were an attractive thing. And I was never as inflexible as you lot liked to think."

"You hid it well," he said pointedly.

"Good at hiding things from people, I am. Especially from myself."

"You were interested in me, though?" Jack asked, not quite convinced. "I thought you only had eyes for Rose. That was certainly the impression you gave."

“Well,” he drew the word out, “I did have a bit of a thing for Rose, and it didn’t help that she would go on about how gorgeous you were. But it wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed that myself. And it wasn't just how you looked, either.”

Jack’s eyebrows went up.

The Doctor reflected for a moment, then said. “I needed Rose, you know? She helped me be a better person. But no matter how we felt about each other it was never going to go past hand holding. Wouldn’t have been right, not with her. You were a different kettle of fish. You're in a class by yourself, Jack Harkness. If certain events hadn’t intervened, I probably would have let you buy me that drink.”

Jack grinned, liking what he was hearing. “Really?”

The Doctor nodded. “Really.”

Jack smiled smugly. “I thought I saw you checking out my ass.”

“Oh, no,” the Doctor objected. “I never would have let you catch me at it.”

As they laughed together the Doctor put his hand on Jack's leg. The directness of his gaze made it clear that he wasn't having second thoughts.

Jack sighed. “A lot of water under the bridge since then. We’re both different people, literally. I’m glad we’re doing this now, Doctor.”

“Better late than never?”

“Yeah. I have to think that everything happened as it was supposed to, at the time it was supposed to, to get us to this point.”

The Doctor shook his head. “The longer I live the less sure I am about a divine plan.”

Jack settled the Doctor back onto the blanket and leaned over him. “How about divine kissing, then?”

“Oh, yes. True believer, me.”

For a while Jack didn’t think about anything more serious than finding more skin to touch.

++++++++


They lay together kissing and petting, exploring each other's mouths and bodies – in an above the waist kind of way. It was pleasantly intimate, and Jack wasn't going to rush through anything. He didn't yet trust that it wouldn't be a one-off event, and wanted it to last as long as possible.

He also needed time to get to know what the Doctor liked, to read the signals for where the Doctor wanted to take this. Jack's experience had taught him that Time Lord sexuality was not fundamentally different than human, in terms of physiological function. He didn't for one moment assume, however, that the Master was a typical representative of the species. Everything about the Doctor demonstrated that he wasn't.

And the Doctor did have limits. He was clearly aroused, the erection brushing against Jack being a good indication, but he was holding back. Jack could only experiment and see how it went.

Not that it was a hardship. He loved brushing his hands over the Doctor's skin. The prominence of the bones wasn't at all off-putting. It was just right for this version of the Doctor. Sylphlike, an inferno that burned away any excess, a rapier to Jack's blunt instrument.

And he loved the light scattering of hair on the Doctor's chest, something Jack had never considered. It made him seem vulnerable, almost human. Jack thought it was sweet, though he would never say that out loud.

Lying on their sides facing each other, Jack ran his hand down the Doctor's back, tracing the ridges of his vertebrae. As he started to brush the gentle curve of the Doctor's arse, the Doctor's body tensed. Taking the hint, Jack skimmed his hip and continued down his thigh. He slipped his hand behind the Time Lord's knee and pulled it up to hook over his own thigh, which the Doctor then used as leverage to bring their pelvises into full contact.

Their cocks now aligned and rubbing together had Jack gasping as his desire spiked. The Doctor used the arm he had around Jack to pull their chests even closer, like he was trying to get inside Jack's skin. The Doctor breathed, "Jack," and the immortal human's heart almost burst. He had dreamed of hearing the Doctor say his name with such need, had jerked off to the fantasy a number of times in fact, but this was real. The Doctor truly did want him, and it was no dream. Jack's eyes would close at times, just so that he could feel the thrill of opening them again to see the Doctor's flushed face so close to his own.

He took his lead from the Doctor, and tightened his own arms around the other man, flexing his hips to grind against him. The Doctor grabbed Jack's head and kissed him enthusiastically, messily, while letting out small greedy noises that made Jack wild. They rocked together urgently, and Jack would have laughed with happiness if it wouldn’t have disrupted the rhythm. Jack thrust against the other man as hard as he could, not holding back, because though he might be skeletally thin, the Doctor was far from fragile.

They drove each other higher, the heat and desire building ecstatically, between gasps and groans. There was no technique involved, just unbridled lust, and it was the best that Jack had ever had. He shouted as he climaxed, "Doctor!" and felt the proverbial fireworks going off behind his eyes. The Doctor mewled wantonly, the pitch rising, until he came against Jack's belly.

Their grip on each other only slackened slightly as they recovered, panting. The Doctor planted quick kisses all over Jack's face and murmured, "Sorry. I'm sorry for making you wait so long."

Jack slid his slightly shaky hand up the Doctor's back, and said, "The last thing you need to do right now is apologize for anything." He grinned. "You've made me a very happy man."

The Doctor answered with a small smile of his own. "My pleasure, entirely."

The effects of the day catching up with him finally, Jack's body relaxed to a blissful, floaty state. "You know, you wore me out so much that I might even be able to sleep."

"Go ahead," the Doctor said gently. "I'll be right here."

With those words Jack was content to let himself be pulled into the peaceful darkness.

++++++

When the dawn arrived they were still entwined with each other. Jack coaxed the reluctant Doctor into the water with the intent of starting a tickle fight. Any excuse to get his hands on the Doctor's body.

The Doctor went in up to his waist, but refused to go any farther. "Jack," he complained, "do you know what's in the water here?"

"No," he answered, unconcerned, "do you?"

"Not exactly, but there are things. Here, in the water. That we can't see. They could do anything. They could touch us. They could nibble." He shuddered.

"Hey, I didn't know you were thalassophobic. You could have said, and we could have gone somewhere else."

"It's not a phobia. It's a healthy respect born of less than pleasant experiences across the universe. I don't like things lurking, that may or may not have some degree of sentience, where I can't see them."

Jack wrapped his arms around the Doctor and began to rub against him temptingly. "How about we create some better associations? I can promise that nothing will touch you except me, and nothing will nibble on you except me. And I won't be lurking; you'll see me coming a mile away."

That made the Doctor smile. "I always do."

The generation of endorphins helped the Doctor relax, and soon they were playing happily in the water, which was absolutely pure – no sign yet of pollution or trash – and held no monsters larger than minnows.

The Doctor didn't stay in long, though, and when he got out he began pulling his clothes on. Jack was disappointed when the skin vanished from sight, but wasn't going to complain. That was just how the Doctor was.

The Doctor engaged in something he called meditation, but looked more like a coma to Jack. He found out the hard way that the Doctor wouldn't come out of the trance-like state until he was ready, even if Jack tried to get his attention. It was disconcerting to see his dynamic Time Lord so still and helpless. It made all Jack's protective instincts go into overdrive, and he never let the Doctor out of his sight when he was like that.

It said something that the Doctor trusted Jack enough to make himself that vulnerable, and it was a trust he was determined never to fail.

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Part 3