The Doctor (
rude_not_ginger) wrote2010-03-16 12:47 am
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for
quitehomoerotic: Welcome to the Boeshane Peninsula
Follows this.
When the Doctor woke, he was prepared to feel stiff and uncomfortable. Usually, when reaching that point of exhaustion, he usually found himself on the floor or on the console, in some sort of an awkward position that left him sore for the next day. This morning, however, he was out of his clothes and stretched out on his bed, under the covers with a heating blanket.
A breathing heating blanket.
He raised an eyebrow and looked to where Jack had an arm around him as he slept. The previous day came rushing back. Pearl Harbor, the goodbyes, the return of Gallifrey, being captured by the Shadow Proclamation, and finally nearly killing Jack. They came so very close. Too close.
Without really thinking about it, the Doctor found himself wrapping an arm around Jack's shoulder. Jack, who was ready and willing to die the previous day. And the Doctor was willing to give him that. He had been willing to give him that. Not anmymore.
Where could they go, now?
Onwards, of course. It was the only way they could go.
The TARDIS wasn't moving anymore, and the Doctor slowly extracted himself from Jack's embrace. He grabbed his trousers and shirt and threw them on quickly, heading towards the console, hopefully before Jack woke.
When the Doctor woke, he was prepared to feel stiff and uncomfortable. Usually, when reaching that point of exhaustion, he usually found himself on the floor or on the console, in some sort of an awkward position that left him sore for the next day. This morning, however, he was out of his clothes and stretched out on his bed, under the covers with a heating blanket.
A breathing heating blanket.
He raised an eyebrow and looked to where Jack had an arm around him as he slept. The previous day came rushing back. Pearl Harbor, the goodbyes, the return of Gallifrey, being captured by the Shadow Proclamation, and finally nearly killing Jack. They came so very close. Too close.
Without really thinking about it, the Doctor found himself wrapping an arm around Jack's shoulder. Jack, who was ready and willing to die the previous day. And the Doctor was willing to give him that. He had been willing to give him that. Not anmymore.
Where could they go, now?
Onwards, of course. It was the only way they could go.
The TARDIS wasn't moving anymore, and the Doctor slowly extracted himself from Jack's embrace. He grabbed his trousers and shirt and threw them on quickly, heading towards the console, hopefully before Jack woke.
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His mouth lowered again, and he traced his tongue along the base, swirling carefully up to the tip, then back down. He then took him into his mouth, copying the movements he'd felt Jack give him moments before.
I do pay attention.
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Each nerve felt that little more awake, that little more alive, and they responded to every switch and twist of the Doctor's tongue, every press of his lips.
"Yeah, I noticed," he said, responding to the mental with the physical in a way that seemed to suit the situation. He moaned again, and let the pleasure he felt flood back along the connection to the Doctor, like waves lapping against the sand.
He glanced down, looking at him, watching as he moved. And just the sight alone caused a further ripple of pleasure, mixed with a spark of something else, a sensual twist.
"Have you got any idea how sexy you look to me right now?"
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This was intimate on a new level. Guards down mentally, physically, just opening up utterly. It had been sometime just close to forever since the Doctor had allowed this to happen.
It was worth the wait.
He traced his thumb along Jack's hipbone as he worked with his mouth, testing out the strength of that sensitive area when paired with the sensations he was already facing. A scientific query, of course. With his mind, he traced the nerves along Jack's wrist.
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His moan grew a little as the Doctor's thumb brushed his skin. And that feeling combined with the utterly delicious way his mouth was moving could be enough, but then to combine that with the internal touch against his wrist? It was truly spectacular.
The hand he held in the sheets gripped that little bit tighter, and his hips pressed up towards the Doctor's mouth, approving and urging. But the touch on his nerves? That seemed to send an electric current through the inside of his body, right from heat to toe.
He let out a sequence of curses in his mind, and he threw back his head a little, biting his lip.
Damn you're good at that.
Jack was nothing if not one for praise.
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Not bad, he agreed, mentally grinning at how very sexy Jack looked with his head thrown back like that. Not at all.
He sped up the motions with his mouth and the stimulation he gave to Jack's wrist mentally. He started it out cold, then hot, then back to cold again, alternating between which felt better to Jack.
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Image after image until it felt like a buzz inside his mind, a buzz that somehow aided the rather skilled way the Doctor's mouth was moving. Faster, building his body, heightening his senses, and flooding his system.
The hand on his hair gripped slightly. Gripped and released and then drifted down to press his fingers to the back of the Doctor's neck as though it was a pulse point.
He allowed the pleasure he felt to flood through the connection, and he hoped the Doctor could feel it just as strongly.
He couldn't hold back though, and he curled his toes as he tried to control himself. But with everything together, it was hard to stay concentrated.
"I can't keep--" he said, his own words cut off by another echoing moan and a curse (not even intentionally) spoken in one of those Gallifreyan translations.
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They'd both been holding back for far too long.
Jack's fingers touched the back of the Doctor's neck and he felt pleasure so sharp it was nearly pain shoot down his spine, coupled with the pleasure flooding through him from Jack. Yeah, Jack was right. If he'd kept this sort of connection going, he'd never want to leave the bedroom. And that was considering his general lack of interest. This was intoxicating.
Jack's pronunciation of that word was actually very good, probably because of his link to the Doctor. It made him smile internally. Perfect, Jack had thought before. Perfect was right.
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And he did. Because he could now, he'd been given that grace, and he needed it more than just his body letting go. He released then, his grip on the sheets, and just let the sensations and the pleasure wash over him and overwhelm him until his body was quite literally shuddering in release.
He called out the Doctor's name (but not his name) on a long and loud moan (one that no doubt could be heard through walls), and as it washed over him he let out a gasping laugh. His body limpening, swimming with the after glow of the rush.
He wanted to speak, to praise him, but he found when he opened his mouth all he could do was breathe heavily. He thought he might sit up, look at him, but his body felt like jelly, and he could do little but stay there and let the waves wash as they did.
And in his mind, even then, all he could manage was: Doctor
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Of course, he wasn’t thinking in a strictly scientific mindset. He lay next to Jack and grinned madly, entirely pleased with himself.
It feels like something’s released, he thought, because thinking was significantly easier than talking. Something that was holding me back. Well, holding us back, I suppose.
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He turned his head after a moment, looking at the Doctor beside him, and he smiled a little amused at the Doctor's expression.
The thoughts too, they made him smile. Made him feel just a little warmer inside; a little happier. And he was, wasn't he? Happy. Properly completely happy. With no clauses or sadness behind it. He wasn't sure when he'd last felt like that.
It has, he thought back as he rolled onto his side and reached a hand out to touch against the Doctor's stomach.
He looked at him then, smiling at his smile, making his own grow just that little more.
"You happy?" he whispered.
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He grinned slowly, widely. Silly, simple emotion, happy. So why was it so utterly elusive to him until now? Well, he supposed it didn’t matter, did it? Or maybe it did matter, and he just refused to allow it to matter.
“Are you?”
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"Very," he said, still smiling impossibly wide.
And he was. He completely was.
He leaned then, closing the distance between them to press his lips to the Doctor's in a slow and lazy kiss, hooking his leg up around him, laughing a little against his lips.
"You know what we should do tomorrow?" he said as he pulled back, only slightly, from the kiss. "We should go and save the world or something. Go and be heroes."
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Truth be told, the Doctor worried they might’ve been over their heads with the creature in the water. It was significantly more powerful than either of them, if it could create a regeneration on a whim. But, in the Doctor’s mind, it could bring on whatever it wanted. He was invincible.
He wouldn’t die, not now. Not after all of this.
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"And this is Boeshane. Not going to let anything happen here. And it won't."
He pressed another kiss against the Doctor's shoulder before resting his chin down against it.
He went on, somewhat teasing, "Maybe I'll just go up have a word with it. I mean, it was sentient enough right. Maybe it's reasonable. If I ask it nicely, maybe it'll just go."
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He wished he could've had the same sense of loyalty Jack had to his home world to his own. Gallifrey was beautiful but terrible, and he felt no loss when he made the decision to destroy it. He should've, he figured, but he didn't. He felt nothing. Nothing but the empty hole where a home world should've been.
"We'll keep this place safe," he promised.
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He shifted slightly as he lay, moving his arm in such a way to offer the Doctor the space between it and him, a little more close, what might even be deemed a cuddle.
"I know we will," he agreed with utter confidence, flicking his eyes towards the Doctor. "It's what we do, right?"
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"Save the world," he agreed. "It's our specialty."
That, and being overall amazing. They did that pretty well, too. And this. This strange sort of relationship with with thing they'd become, they weren't doing so terribly on that, either. Well, they were, but they'd apparently improved quite a bit on it in the last few hours.
He pressed a kiss to Jack's mouth gently. They could do this.
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"It is," Jack said with a grin, "and well, we do it with style."
He touched his other hand gently to the Doctor's cheek and returned his kiss, wrapping his leg a little more around the Doctor's, tangling with him.
I don't want to go to sleep, he thought, brushing his fingertips through the Doctor's hair, just above his ear. I'm enjoying this too much.
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He had a few days left before he'd have to sleep, especially after that deep sleep back in the TARDIS. But he wouldn't move, he decided. He was far too comfortable. Far too happy like this. And happy wasn't something he often had in this lifetime. It was worth it to stay.
He wouldn't leave, he promised himself. Wouldn't leave Jack alone, not after all of the times before. He'd build him another homing beacon, he'd----he'd do something to prove he wouldn't go. Not again.
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"First thing tomorrow," he said, speaking aloud and still toying gently with the Doctor's hair, "I'll get us some other clothes. The water'll have got to ours. Get a couple of breathing regulators and we can go back sort that thing out. Then we'll go enjoy the rest of that universe out there. You know I'd say find another adventure, but I think maybe I've got that right here."
A beat. And he laughed.
"Okay that was corny, I was corny, right? I was corny. Yeah I don't care." And rather impulsively, he kissed him again.
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The kiss felt natural. Some part of his mind began to panic, telling him that the more they got used to this, the harder it would be later, when it all ended (and things never ended well for the Doctor).
He firmly told that part of his mind to shut up.
He liked Jack's hands in his hair. He'd had some rather wild and interesting hair in his time, but this regeneration was definitely blessed with the best yet. It was nice to see it appreciated.
"Get some sleep," he instructed Jack, laying back on the bed and pulling him close.
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"I can still hear you, you know," he added. "And I can play that game too. Don't stop yourself having something just because of something that might not even happen. Or if you do, lets just make this an exception, okay?"
And as if to make a point, he leaned and pressed a kiss to his collar bone.
But that said, and that done, he didn't argue with the Doctor's instruction, and he moved himself up closer, still lying on his side but against him, draped over him a little.
"Night, Doctor," he whispered gently, and he closed his eyes and allowed himself to sleep.
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He focused on doing as Jack said, pressing out the fears and the worries and just enjoying the moment. It was difficult, at first. His mind was already set up with a variety of self-defense mechanisms to keep himself safe from getting in too deep. But he was happy, and if that didn't last forever, well, at least he had now, right? Wasn't that what jack was saying?
He felt Jack's mind rest next to him and did his best to clear his thoughts so they wouldn't muddle up his dreams.
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Not long at all and he was away; his body absently curling up that little bit more around the Doctor's as he drifted into a deeper sleep.
Usually, Jack tried not to dream. It wasn't as though he could truly suppress them, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try. Here though, he was more relaxed. Yes it all might go wrong, yes something terrible could happen, but it didn't have to and be damned he was going to let himself enjoy the moment while he had it. It was a memory he wanted to keep.
And so he did dream, but the dream wasn't things he hoped for, or secret little things he wanted, it was something he had. The course of the evening, in all its sexual detail, replayed in his mind but punctuated with the way certain things made him feel, and things way past the sexual. Certain things the Doctor had said to him, and had said long before they'd connected their minds. Those words would stay with him. The Doctor wanted him for who he was. He wasn't sure anyone had ever wanted that.
And then that dream lead to another, and it was here, Boeshane. He dreamt of himself, climbing that tree, playing in the sand. And he dreamt of leaving there again, leaving now to go into the TARDIS and away.
And that was the place, that in his dreams, felt like home.
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"It must be nice," the Doctor whispered, moving a lock of Jack's hair aside. "Dreaming just by closing your eyes. You don't know how lucky you are." And while he wanted to get up, to make some tea, to putter about, to look around, he made himself stay still and wait until the morning.
Jack felt happy, like he was home. He wasn't about to ruin that.
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