"Must be why I like you," Jack said, his voice distracted as he focussed his attention on licking his tongue in a line along the inside of his thigh down towards his knee and blowing air gently against the newly dampened skin.

"Have a look," he said "maybe they've got your favourite."

His hand drifted down in a way that could seem utterly accidental. His fingers touching against the Doctor's stomach, just curled in, a touch that glided away and lower, almost pressed to more sensitive skin, but not quite close enough.

And then? Like a snap? He moved. He moved his mouth away, his hands away, everything. He sat upright, on his knees between the Doctor's, and simply looked at him. Watched him, and waited to see what he'd do.