for quitehomoerotic: Welcome to the 27th century

[rude_not_ginger]

Follows this.

It was one thing, watching your companion be ripped apart.

One very terrible thing, mind you, but one thing. The Doctor stayed prone on the ground, the sound of Jack's death screams ringing in his ears as that thing, whatever it was, tore him into several unpleasant pieces. It reminded him of the Year That Wasn't, of Jack's screams while the Master tortured him and the Doctor's frail body keeping him from helping. That was torture, far more brutal than anything the Master's tools could produce.

Once the loud stomps of the creature faded away, the Doctor struggled to get to his feet and limped to the place where Jack had been.

It was another thing, having to find his body for it to regrow.

It took some time to find his upper torso, limp and lifeless. It didn't take too terribly long to drag said upper torso to a safe, empty cave not far from the forest's edge (after all, what Jack no longer had in height, he also lost in weight. It didn't take long for time to start snapping around him and his body to start to regrow.

That was something else all together. Muscle and bone formed out of nothing, and while Jack wasn't coherent, he was still alive, screaming and thrashing as he reformed. The Doctor pressed his fingertips to Jack's temple and tried to take away the pain, but when that failed, he pressed his mind into a quiet, comatose state.

While Jack repaired, the Doctor covered him with his coat and sat, waiting. For all that they'd fought, for all that the Doctor swore he'd never want Jack back on the TARDIS again, he did care about him. He wanted him happy, even if he wasn't certain he could handle having him so close. Jack was willing to die for the Doctor, and this was just another example of how he could.

But the Doctor wouldn't leave. Not this time.

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The Doctor put his hand down to his leg. "Sore," he said. "But healing. Looks like it's been stitched up and oh that is disgusting."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"What is?" Jack said, spinning his head back to the Doctor and wiping his grin from his face.

"Is something wrong?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"They've stitched it," he said, not bothering to hide his revulsion. "With a needle and thread! Digging little holes in the skin to pull two bits of skin and muscle together! It's---primitive!"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Seriously?" Jack said, incredulous. "Really, seriously? Just be thankful it's fixed and not bleeding out. You can get the stitches out when you get back to the TARDIS and fix it so it's good as new. Really, Doctor, you're such a baby sometimes."

He rolled his eyes and turned away again, starting to walk around the room. There was a couch and a coffee table, and on it a set of cups and bottles of drink with a box of something that might or might not be food. Atop that there sat a note and Jack lifted it.

"Hey, Doctor," he waved it between his fingers and stepped back over, sitting himself on the end of the Doctor's bed and kicking his feet about a little.

"It's in English," he said, surprised as he started reading the note. "Well, sort of English."

Turning his upper body towards the Doctor, he read aloud, "We enjoy that you made here, and we want for your enjoyment, we crave that you take your pleasure which is ours."

He screwed his nose up and offered it to the Doctor, "Well someone didn't pay attention at school. There are some symbols on the bottom too, I can't read them, maybe you can."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor continued to pout about the injury that had clearly occurred to his leg---not the gunshot, the stitching---when Jack returned to his bedside. He took the note and gave it a look over.

"Must have a less than adequate translator," the Doctor said. He flicked his finger against the symbols. "But these. These don't translate for me. Which means they're probably not a language. Aren't a lot of languages in the universe I can't read. Might be a company symbol, or a name."

He handed the note back to Jack and looked over at the food and drink. His stomach was frightfully empty, too, but he couldn't help his worry. "Nothing this nice happens to us," he said. "Ever. Not even on Thau Beta 7, when Rose wore the wrong color shoes."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Awww, I remember that," Jack smiled, "it would have been great if not for that explosion. Who were we to know he was allergic!?"

He gave the note another once over, turning it back and forth between his fingers as he considered.

"And oh, I don't know about that, Doctor, we found that luxury ship, that was pretty lucky." He glanced his eyes rather pointedly over towards the Doctor and internally wished he could shut his mind up from considering just how good the Doctor looks in those scrubs and how they cling to him so nicely.

Stop it.

"You're right about that here though, I bet," he said, turning his head again, "this is all a little too perfect. And nothing comes without a price. Nothing. I wonder what they want. Whoever they are."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Well, the first half of that day wasn't so bad," the Doctor agreed. He stole a quick glance in Jack's direction. It was actually, if the Doctor really allowed himself to admit it, a fantastic evening, complete with a hot shower and a surprisingly comfortable bedmate. Among...other things. It would've been a lot better if he hadn't woken up without his memory.

He turned his gaze back on the opposite table. With some effort, he pulled himself out of bed and limped towards the food and drink. The pain in his leg had been numbed, too, making the walk easier than he'd expected. He picked up a box of the food and inspected it. It looked harmless enough.

He glanced back to Jack. "You don't remember how they brought us here, either?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"I seem to remember the mid section having its moments too," Jack added with a slight smirk to himself. He made eye contact with the Doctor for just a moment before looking away, and telling his brain to stop recalling those thoughts.

His brain though, didn't really want to listen, and as the Doctor moved across the room he caught himself staring at his behind, which, he thought, looked rather magnificent in the blue scrubs.

No, really, stop it.

He cleared his throat and looked up as the Doctor turned back, flushing slightly as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. "What? Uh, no," he said, straightening himself out and placing his hands on his hips. "No. Last thing I remember it that thing on my back and then something shooting. Must have been some sort of gas in the bullets that knocked us clear out. Next thing I knew I was was waking up here a few minutes ago."

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"I remember seeing it and going under the quicksand, but that's it." No, no, he remembered the gunshots, too. "Sirlanomode," he theorized. "Can be made into a gas form and has memory reduction properties. Not exactly the most civilized medicine, but I don't think we're anywhere that knows much about civilized culture."

He once again gestured to his calf. This was going to be a sticking point for a long time.

But they were alive. That was the important thing, the thing the Doctor didn't think would happen when he was being pulled under and Jack was struggling with the creature. He was certain that one of them, or both of them, would end up dead.

He popped the food in his mouth, and turned back to Jack.

"I'm going to hug you now." He announced.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I remember seeing you go under," Jack agreed. That hadn't been nice. He'd been terrified that he'd failed him then. Utterly terrified. But then he remembered nothing. Nothing but a haze after they'd been knocked out.

A frown etched into his forehead when the Doctor informed him of his intention, and he wondered if he'd heard it correctly.

"You're going to what?" he asked. But he had heard it. Hug him, the Doctor said he was going to hug him. Huh, well that'd be... quite nice actually.

"Uh, okay," he managed, a little uselessly, still surprised.

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"We very nearly died out there," the Doctor said, very seriously. "I think it's a good idea. Won't take a mo'."

He took a few steps towards Jack, and then wrapped his arms around him in a big hug. Silly, of course, to be hugging in a strange place when they had no idea how they got here or where here was.

But the hug felt nice. It felt good, feeling Jack as one piece and alive against him.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Take as long as you like," Jack started to slowly smile as the Doctor edged towards him, and he opened his arms, ready and waiting.

He wrapped around him and gripped him tight as the Doctor did the same, grinning and making a little pleased noise into the embrace.

This was nice, this was very nice. The Doctor, his Doctor. Well, not his Doctor... oh he really didn't need to have those arguments with himself, he knew what he meant.

"Thought I was going to lose you there for a moment," he said, still squeezing him. "Glad I didn't though. The TARDIS would be really mad at me if I didn't bring you back to her in one piece."

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The Doctor grinned. "Yeah, she'd be pretty furious if I didn't take care of you, too," the Doctor admitted. Don't tell her I told you, though. She'll be furious if her secret gets out."

He pulled back and gave Jack a wide smile. It was good. This was good, them, alive, now. It made up for the pain from before. He could distinctly remember why he was so infuriated with Jack, but he couldn't really recall the emotion.

He nodded, and then gestured to the food. "Seems like it's not poisoned. Tastes a bit like cardboard, though. But! We'll get something to eat, thank our rescuers for their primitive stitchwork, and see if we can't bargain our way onto a time ship bound for Cardiff."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"You kidding me? I shot you, she'd probably try and electrocute me if I stepped over the doorway or something. I mean sure, it might not kill me, but it'd sting," he laughed before adding, again not so subtley, "guess it's a good job I won't be doing that."

He rubbed the Doctor's arm a little as he pulled back, and shot him another of his much coveted 'Jack Harkness' smiles.

"Cardboard!" he said with mock enthusiasm, padding over to pick at the little square shapes of food. The Doctor was right, they were vile, but hopefully they might take the edge off his hunger.

"Mm," he said around a mouthful, "sounds good. Only one problem there. I don't see a door, do you?"

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"Nah, the TARDIS isn't that sort of vindictive. She'd just take away all the hot water in your showers and make sure your bedroom got the ventilation air in it. Harmless stuff."

He didn't miss Jack's comment about not doing that again. The Doctor told Jack he wasn't allowed back on. It wasn't a wrong thing to say when he said it, but he wished he'd waited, just a little while longer, to say it. They were good together, he and Jack. Really good together.

But he certainly couldn't take that back now.

"No. I noticed that, too." He limped around the room, running his hand along the wall for a hidden door. "They must've gotten us in here somehow."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Right, Jack thought, the Doctor's silence spoke volumes. He wasn't getting a re-invite, so he should just stop thinking about it. They might be getting on okay now- well, getting on well, it wasn't like they were just coping or anything, but it was just to make things easier, he told himself. It's not like they were friends or anything.

No, that thought even sounded stupid in his head. Of course they were friends. Once.

"Mmmhmm," Jack agreed, glancing up. "Doctor..." he said. Above them was a piece of plate glass, mirrored, as though it might be two way, as though there might be some sort of observation deck above. He thought of the interrogation room in the Hub and it reminded him of it.

"What do you make of that?"

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"I think it looks like we're being watched," the Doctor agreed. He waved up at the glass, but there was no response. "Means we're not held in a psychic prison therefore there must be another way out."

He dropped to the floor and began checking the tiles for any secret cracks or levers he hadn't noticed. He traced his fingernail along the seal in the tiling, but nothing, not even a speck of dirt, came out. He felt terribly naked without his brainy specs in a time like this, though he didn't say so aloud.

"I think we're going to need to get their attention to get the doors open," the Doctor said, hopping back to his feet. Odd. Jack looked a lot taller, now. He had to be the same height, but his proportions looked all wrong. The Doctor blinked a few times and Jack went back to himself. Strange.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Hmm, it does look that way," Jack agreed and looked at the glass, "Hello," he shouted, "the food stinks, by the way. You need to work on that."

He wanted to shove his hands in his pockets, and felt put out that he didn't have any. He ignored it and crossed his arms over his chest instead.

"Well, getting people's attention is my speciality," Jack smirked and glanced over at the Doctor. "Where I go, people tend to look," he said, more than a little smug.

"Find anything crawling around there did you?" he asked, and as he did he noticed the Doctor's neck and the curve of his collarbone under the fabric. It was quite distracting.

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"No," the Doctor said. "This is good. No. No, wait, it's not good. Not good at all. Jack, can you please stand still for a moment?"

He took a step forward and put his hands on Jack's shoulders. Jack kept moving, his body shifting and swirling in ways he knew couldn't possibly be happening.

Maybe Jack was just a figment of his imagination? Maybe he was still dreaming, but Jack needed to stay still. It was terribly distracting.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Doctor..." Jack said, confused, "I am standing still. He reached his own hands up in return and touched his hands against the Doctor's arms. He could smell him. His pheremones and that smell that was so distinctively Doctor, but amplified as though he was tasting it.

It made his mouth run dry.

"Something's not right," he said, pointing out the obvious. "Doctor..." he said again, and saw himself putting his hand to the other man's face before making himself draw it back speedily.

"Tell me what's happening, Doctor."

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"I think we've been drugged," the Doctor said, though he could not for the life of him figure out why this was an upsetting situation. Why wouldn't he want to be drugged?

He let out a laugh. "This is definitely a euphoria I should not be feeling for the situation," he said, enthusiastically.

If his earlier excitement caused him to hug Jack, this new euphoria made him far more excitable. He wrapped his arms around Jack's shoulders and pulled him to him in a quick, excited kiss. The sort of kiss he generally only gave when he had just cheated death, but, well, he was too happy to worry about it.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Drugged, hmm, yes. Jack vaguely heard that somewhere in his mind, and he was sure he agreed with it. A fact he tried to make audible, but all that would come forth was a breathy "Yeah..." he was far too busy watching the Doctor's lips as he talked.

His blood ran hot, as though he was at the height of arousal. And really, the Doctor did it for him, but not this simply. Nobody did it this simply.

All consideration and questioning though was quickly cut off as the Doctor kissed him. Jack's body took control and sprung into action, like a fuse set alight.

He pushed his body against the Doctor's and all but smashed him against the wall, pinning him there with his own body pressed against him. He kissed him again, hard, passionate. He knew in his mind that this wasn't quite right, but he really couldn't stop himself, and in the moment, this was exactly what he wanted.

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This felt good, and the Doctor felt gleeful at Jack's enthusiasm to the kiss. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was wrong, and Jack's reaction was wrong, and they needed to stop this nonsense right now.

The wall hit the Doctor's back hard, and he found he was much too excited to be, well, as excited as he imagined he would be in a similar situation with Jack forcing him up against a wall so aggressively. Jack was, well, very excited against the Doctor, but there was nothing but pure euphoria running through the Doctor. No arousal, no sexual drive. While the Doctor could be cold on occasion, he hadn't had that sort of problem in 900 years.

The euphoria began to ebb away, replaced by frustration. Which was idiotic. He had no reason to be frustrated. But there wasn't reason. There was just emotion.

He found the strength in his shoulders to push Jack back. "Jack," he said. "We need to stop and think."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack was amazed at just how much he found he wanted the Doctor. He wanted so much, he wanted to do so much. Ideas and images ran rampant in his mind and the voice telling him it was wrong screamed trying to tell him to stop.

His mouth seeked out the Doctor's jawline and he kissed his way along it, one hand down grabbing on the Doctor's thigh to try and lift it.

To lift it? He frowned a little, what was he doing? Was he genuinely trying to have sex with the Doctor up against a wall in some alien hospital cell where they may or may not be watched?

No, this was wrong.

At that moment the Doctor pushed him off. His urges told him to move straight back and reclaim the loss, but his mind was stronger than that, and he held back.

"Yeah you're telling me!" he said gruffly, his voice rich with want.

He stepped back and tried to keep his distance from the Doctor, to try not to breathe him in and want him even more. "Drugged," he repeated back, "definitely drugged."

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He started thinking about what drugs could do this. His mind was trying to list out the drugs that could do this to him and create the reactions he saw in Jack. Emphasizing natural inclinations? The Doctor was excited to be safe, so he was euphoric, a little frustrated by his predicament against the wall, now he was furious...

"That's what I said, isn't it?" the Doctor snapped. Jack could just be so utterly useless. Repeating what the Doctor had already knew, only interested in having sex with him. That was all Jack was ever interested in!

He couldn't control himself, the Doctor pulled back and threw a punch at Jack's face.