for quitehomoerotic: Welcome to the Boeshane Peninsula

[rude_not_ginger]

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.

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[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Oooh," the Doctor nodded, impressed. "Well, at least you started out with someone experienced. Not so much for me. Course, with Time Lord society, no one's experienced. No matter the age."

He liked that smile, though. It was good. It was promising, and they needed some promising in the wasteland of misery they'd been wading through these last few weeks.

He wondered if he should pull Jack towards the bedroom. Would now be the right time to try to mvoe on with sexual relations? Was that too soon? Why weren't things black and white, like maths? The Doctor liked maths. They never stopped making sense.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack watched the Doctor and smiled. He looked at him and wondered what was going through his head. It made him laugh to think of it, he imagined it was much more than it needed to be. Probably detailing technicalities, worrying about things that need not be worried about. Detail and questions and all sorts of things.

But maybe there Jack could help.

He made a conscious move, and it pulled himself back from the Doctor, moved so he was no longer touching him, but even then barely an inch away.

"What do you think?" he asked in a voice that had dropped to a whisper. "That part of your mind, Doctor, beneath the questions and the distractions. Down to the urges. Those human sort of urges. I know you have them. What do you think?"

He tilted his head back then, glanced him up and down once. He'd again shifted his position, leaning his upper body forward a little to somehow dominate the space in which they stood.

"What about when you notice? Because sometimes you notice. Sometimes I bet you catch yourself, don't you? That amazing mind of yours drifting, wondering. Wondering how it might feel, how it might taste, how it might sound, what you could create."

And of course Jack knew, the art of seduction (if that was what it was) was always best when appealed to something of interest. And so he did. "It's all science, Doctor, all an equation of movements and looks to produce the result. All an experiment. A touch here, fingers there, lips there, see what it does. What does this do? What will that do? And you wonder, don't you? You wonder sometimes. And you should let yourself. You should experiment."

He took a step back, straightened his head a little, and waited.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Wow. Now, the Doctor had been seduced by a number of people in his time. Cleopatra, Madame du Pompadour, Casanova, but really? None of them had manage to bring science into the seduction. If the Doctor could really think beyond what Jack had said, he might go so far as to compliment him for his absolutely spectacular speech there, but he couldn't think beyond where he was at that moment.

"Experiment, eh?" he asked, after clearing his throat. If there was one thing Jack Harkness knew how to do, it was how to get under the Doctor's skin. "What sort of experiments, exactly? Because that's what this is, isn't it? Because, really, if we're going to be technical on experiments, we should really admit that you want to either be the variable or the control in this one."

As he spoke, he took a step towards Jack. He couldn't help it.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack continued to watch. His eyes were slightly lidded, slightly veiled, and he scanned them up and down the Doctor's form before bringing them again to rest his gaze on his eyes. His eyes, yes, for a moment, but then it fell a little, his lips instead, and he licked his own as though it were an absent gesture.

But it wasn't.

"Good question," he said, eyes again shifting, falling on the skin at the curve of the Doctor's neck, his gaze obvious, and obviously for him to see.

He left a pause while he looked, as though he were utterly distracted by it, utterly enthralled. And then to his eyes again.

"You tell me," he said, "you're the genius here. And really, why limit yourself to just the one?"

He reached his hand forward then, took the Doctor's tie between his index and middle finger and stroked them down the length of it. "And which would you like to be, Doctor?" he asked, and his voice dropped slightly again.

"The variable?" a lower whisper, and he leaned almost imperceptibly closer, feet and body not moving. "Or the control."

His fingers reached the base of the Doctor's tie and he left them there just a moment before withdrawing his hand and moving his head to whisper in the Doctor's ear. "Personally I've always thought you pretty good at that."

He hadn't, of course, truly answered anything the Doctor had asked, but the intention was for that not to be noticed. He left the ball in the Doctor's court, to allow him to follow his urges and not question them.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

This was exactly how the Doctor wanted to be seduced, really. The teasing, the forcefulness, the lack of questioning. If the question about what he wanted came up, he tended to freeze, to think too much. This was right, this was what he needed.

But was Jack being Jack, or was he trying to be what the Doctor needed? Or was that before? It was...really very impossible to tell with Jack. His unpredictability was one of his most appealing features, but it was also one of the most confusing.

"Oooh, I'm a variable," he said. "After all, a control stays still. And we both know I don't know how to do that."

It would be only too easy to reach down to Jack's wrist and slip a finger beneath his vortex manipulator. But, well, if Jack was going to put forth a little extra effort, the Doctor wasn't about to resort to easy tactics. He mimicked Jack's movements with one of his braces, sliding the wet material between two fingers.

"Though, really, we're not in ideal conditions for any experiments, Jack."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

And it was so strange, Jack thought. Here he'd been trying to be what he thought the Doctor would want, removing elements of him self that he in his mind had deemed would be 'too much'. But then this was him, this was who he was, an element, not the entirety, but just as important a factor as any other, and here, like this? He could have utter confidence. Because he knew what he was doing.

And maybe that's what he should have done all along.

His hand drifted again to the bottom of the Doctor's tie, absently (but precisely) curling the fabric around his finger, he shifted his hold again then, moving so he gently held a finger hooked around the knot at the top.

And then he tugged firmly, loosening it.

"Then I guess that makes me the control, doesn't it?" he said, his voice still low and husky.

His eyes then went to the Doctor's neck, the tiniest extra space of skin displayed now without his tie holding his shirt tight. His eyes danced over the skin, touching it with just a look, and then his gaze drifted again, looking at the Doctor's hand as it touched against his braces.

"Oh I beg to differ," he said, "I think an experiment in these conditions could provide some quite interesting results."

And again, he tugged loose the Doctor's tie.

"So we have our variable, and we have our control. Tell me what else we need." And not a question, not a query, but an instruction.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"It does, as a matter of fact," the Doctor replied. He found his voice had lowered, just the slightest bit, and he was finding his mind surprisingly non-distracted. Jack was focusing him on the situation, focusing him on every word and every movement. He followed his eyes where Jack looked and felt his skin flush as though he'd been touched.

Jack was very, very good at this.

"Reaction," the Doctor said. It came out as a squeaky breath, and he quickly and quietly cleared his throat. "Reaction," he said, more firmly. "T-That's the whole point of a proper experiment, though."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Then I'll have to remember that," he said, tugging the Doctor's tie again, once, then twice until it was free and he could slowly pull the rest of it free from around his neck. He held it out and let it drop to the floor. He wasn't interested in it.

"Reaction," Jack repeated the word as though he was trying to see how it tasted on his tongue. He smirked slowly and dropped his voice to an even lower whisper.

"I don't think that'll be a problem," he said, leaning slightly towards the Doctor's ear to speak the words.

"And so we have what we need," he said as he withdrew, a step back to put a conscious almost tangible space between them, "and we know the result we're looking for. So tell me, Doctor, in your opinion, how would be best to proceed?"

And Jack was still looking, still searching. And again he wet his bottom lip.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Well, the most thorough way to proceed would be to---take frequent samples," the Doctor offered. "Judging each based on the control and...uh, well----"

He really did have a thought in his mind, but Jack had to go off and wet his bottom lip like that and it was really, really distracting. He did have an entire speech in his head about taking proper experiments and relating it back to the many, many things he thought might be experimental in this room, but all those thoughts were gone now, and he was left completely without his favorite defense mechanism: his voice.

"Sorry," he said, tearing his eyes away from Jack's mouth. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Inside, Jack was grinning. He didn't let that show on the outside though, that would hardly work. But it was there because this was working. This what he knew so well and had used countless times, always tailored to the individual of course, but never on the Doctor. Never aside from that innocent little flirtation in the TARDIS. He hadn't thought he'd be able to hook the Doctor like that.

But he could. Because it wasn't about what he wanted, it was about letting the other person see what they did.

"We were talking about what you want," Jack said, though that wasn't the case at all.

And then he added, with much more confidence. "And you want me. Don't you."

He tilted his head slightly then, examining him still. "I know you do, Doctor. I can see it. And I want you," a step forward to him then, and a step around him, as if to examine from all angles.

"I want to run my tongue over your body, over that space at the back of your neck. I want to see what noises you'll make when I touch you, stroke you. And you want that,"

A pause for emphasis.

"Don't you?" Again, not so much a question as a statement. But demanding an answer.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Did he? He realized that yeah, yeah, he wouldn't mind that. Not one bit, actually. Want? Yes.

There was something deliriously pleasing about being informed of what Jack wanted, exactly, and being reminded that it was what he wanted, too. In a moment of passion, like the luxury liner and Jack's flat, the Doctor could handle himself fairly well. But...practiced passion, the kind people who were with with had, he was completely lost. How would he start it? Where would he go? What would he do? Jack took the confusion out of that. It was freeing.

"Yes," he said, and he was surprised that there was no caution, no nervousness, nothing in his voice but confidence.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It took quite the resolve then for Jack not to grin a ridiculously wide grin. How long had he wanted to hear that? Had he wanted the certainty of it, to know for sure? And now he did. He knew because the Doctor said it, and it didn't matter that he'd prompted him to, because all he'd done was find the truth. That was the sort of thing that made him feel alive.

The smile showed for a moment. Just the very fraction of a second when it shone through, a glint in his eyes as he looked down. It softened him just slightly, but it didn't mean he lost any of that control.

"Then I think we should do something about that," he said.

He came back around so that he was standing in front of him again, and he straightened his back, making himself a little taller, a little more control of the space around him. He leaned his head forward as though he might kiss him, but he didn't, he just ghosted his lips there and kept his eyes open, watching him, searching what little of his face he could see.

And then he whispered against his lips, "And you've never wanted to kiss me more."

He moved his head a little then, ghosting lips along his jaw, touching with nothing but air, and another whisper, "Tell me to kiss you."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Jack's breath was warm against his jaw, and the Doctor resisted the urge to wrap his arms around him. It was like he was a walking ball of heat and energy, and time pooled around him. It was dizzying, and terribly arousing.

Jack also gave instruction well. He could, the Doctor realized. Take the instruction, tell Jack to kiss him. Give in, let Jack do all of the work. Course, that didn't feel particularly fair. After all, the Doctor was half of this whole with with business.

"What if I don't want to?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's lips twisted once again into a smile. Oh that was good. It would have been good for the Doctor to do as he said but this? This was so much better, because he was joining in. It wasn't a refusal, he wasn't stupid enough to think that. He knew how this worked, the delicacy of it.

He let out a brief laugh and whispered again, "Oh but you do," he said, utterly confident of the fact.

"But fine," he said, playing along, "I could stop, if you like." And so he did, or at least made a fine show of it, stepping back slightly, space between them again, using the air as a tool.

And then he just smirked at him, as though letting him know he was enjoying this, the back and forth, and enjoying more still since he joined in.

And yes, the question on his lips was an almost worrying one to make, but Jack was convinced they were far enough ahead in this game for the Doctor to have enough confidence and enough focus to say. "So if you don't want me to kiss you," he said, still smirking, "what do you want me to do."

And a pause.

"To you."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor watched Jack step away impassively, making a show of not responding. All show, of course. He knew Jack was loving this, and there was no way he'd stop. The way he smiled before, the gleam in his eye, the Doctor was fairly certain that even his colder former self would've been fascinated.

"Nothing," the Doctor said, firmly. "I don't want you to do anything."

He couldn't stop himself from smirking. "Because, you see---" he took a step towards Jack. "---you're the control. The variable affects the control."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

For just a moment Jack was full of the worry that he'd done something wrong. Worried that he'd said things he shouldn't.

But then the Doctor smirked, and that worry faded. If it had shown on Jack's face, it had only been for a moment, and then that was replaced by realisation and a grin along with it.

"Oh I see," he said, turning his head to watch him approach.

"Well in that case. What do you want to do to me?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He had absolutely intended to continue on with the show of being in control, of affecting Jack in a variety of scientific ways, checking his nerves and blood flow and the like. To tease Jack the way he'd teased the Doctor. But in the end, desire won out. And Jack said that the Doctor could want.

He cupped Jack's face and kissed his mouth. He had intended to make it slow and pointedly scientific, but he found himself kissing him firmly, deeply. After all, what were intentions if desires were elsewhere?

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

There was no way of predicting what the Doctor might do, Jack thought. And he loved that. He loved that whatever might come would be unexpected.

And he loved it too when the Doctor kissed him.

There was no game in that, and Jack could tell, and so there was no game in the way he responded. He didn't hold back to tease or draw things out. Because he had urges of his own, he had wants and desires, and right now they were all in him. And so he kissed him back putting his all into it, and admittedly, yes, perhaps showing off just a little.

At the same time, he touched a hand to the Doctor's chest, flat against the wet shirt, the dampness making the shape of his body beneath feel all the more apparent. And then those fingers shifted to hook around where the buttons held the fabric down, it spoke of intention more than action. He was quite content to kiss him.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor grinned against Jack's mouth. This, this was good. This was what they needed, the two of them. Far too often, things got so muddled or confused, they were never on the right wavelength. This was good. This was right.

He broke the kiss and pressed his mouth to Jack's jaw. He could taste the water from the ocean, along with some sweat, and some of Jack's pheromone. If he were scientifically minded (which, as a matter of fact, he was), he might go so far as to try to determine the pH in Jack's body from the taste.

Of course, he couldn't get too caught up in the details. Thoroughness was, after all, an important part of any experiment.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

As soon as the Doctor's lips were gone from his own, Jack felt the loss. He let out a gasping breath, un-tempered, and he smiled as his lips touched his jaw. He had wanted this a long time, yes, but more than want, he needed it, and he suspected the Doctor did too. And it would be okay. Things would be okay.

The fingers that touched at the Doctor's shirt twisted a little more then, pulled in such a way that moved the fabric free of the buttons, a way too that looked almost accidental. It wasn't, of course.

"So," he said as he took in a deep breath, "Mr. Variable, I do hope you intend to provide a full analysis."

And then beneath that? A little more truth shone through on a shaky breath of his own, "Oh I want you."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I intend to," he murmured, far more focused on Jack's closeness than keeping up the pretense of being a cold scientist. There were plenty of options, plenty of things to try, things he'd been a bit too nervous to actually attempt in the past. But, well, if Jack wanted him to experiment...

He took in a sharp breath at Jack's words. For all his false ego, sometimes it just felt good to be wanted. And he wanted Jack, too. Pretty much far more than he'd wanted anything in a very long while.

"Now, be cooperative," he said, his voice teasing.

He lacked the finesse Jack had at undoing clothing, so he moved a little more slowly, moving to slide one of Jack's braces down, and then the other. A Time Lord was patient, and the Doctor could be, too.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Glad to hear it," Jack said, tilting his head a little to allow the Doctor access to a little more space, a little more skin. His body coaxing and leading him on with no words needed.

His fingertips tingled and he wondered if he wasn't just imagining all of this. Wondered if he'd blink and it'd be gone. To want and to crave something so much and then to have it, it was a delirious feeling. Jack of course wanted more than merely the sexual though he couldn't pretend that wasn't what took over his mind right now, but the rest was there, surrounding it, and it would come. He was confident of that.

"Yes, Sir," he replied, twisting his smile to a smirk. "I intend to be fully compliant."

He shifted to help the Doctor, while not making a conscious move to take the job from him. A shift of shoulder here and arm there, and the delicacy and delay of it all just made that tingle all the stronger. The Doctor was good at this too, he wondered if he knew.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Calculated studies require extra effort," he explained, reaching up to slowly undo the buttons on Jack's shirt. There was more effort involved in making sure his hands didn't shake than he wanted to admit, but he was, surprisingly, nervous. Things were going well. Surprisingly well. Much better than they usually did with him and Jack, especially lately.

"You wear more layers than I do," the Doctor commented, tracing his forefinger along the white undershirt below Jack's blue shirt. "And that's saying a good bit, actually. Never could figure out how many shirts worked under a suit. And I've been trying for a while."

He slid his finger down Jack's sternum slowly, as though making a careful point, but mostly to feel the warmth of his companion against his skin.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Well you know I always think it's worth going that extra mile. If you want something done you'd best do it well, isn't that right, Doctor?"

His eyes flicked down again to watch the Doctor work on each button. He almost wanted to appraise his skill at it, because that was what it was in Jack's eyes, skilled.

"I do," he agreed. "But I look good."

Beat.

"And so do you."

He breathed an almost shaky breath as the Doctor moved his finger, and again his eyes were on it. "I should be careful," he said teasingly, "you'll be picking up tricks from me soon."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Nah," the Doctor said, sliding his finger slowly back up. "I'd never want to steal your tricks, Jack. I prefer having them used on me."

That was more honesty than the Doctor had managed in a while. He gave Jack a small smile to go with that confession, and then moved to slip the blue shirt over his shoulders. One layer at a time. It was how the Doctor worked, his many shirt layers beneath his coat, and Jack was the same way.

One step at a time. He focused on not thinking too far ahead, not fretting. It was easier with Jack, who flirted and focused and kept the Doctor's mind from straying.

He leaned down and pressed another kiss to Jack's mouth, this one slow and sweet. A variation on the variable.