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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[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It felt like a flood, the sudden ability to see images and thoughts and feelings. He could touch them and feel them as though they were his own, and they mingled in his mind with what he felt too. It was clear in a way Jack was almost surprised by. He remembered a time the Doctor had told him he didn't really have those thoughts. He was very glad to be proved wrong.

But it was more than that, of course, it was that subtlety to it, something said in a way words would never be enough to articulate. A need, and just what it was like to feel need. That wrenching feeling inside that was both good and bad. And that he was the one needed? That it was directed at him? And that more than anything, utterly above all it was the Doctor needing him? It was almost overwhelming.

And so, without words too, he let that be felt. His own emotion (something he so often tried to hide) free and with utter clarity so the Doctor could read it, so that he could see just how good that made him him feel. How important, how special. And how alive. He needed him too, and he'd been too scared to need, embarrassed to need. But now? Now he could just let him see it, and it was good.

What attention he could spare went to moving his fingers back to that space against the Doctor's neck. Back to drawing small figures of eight, a featherlight touch, barely a touch at all.

And as he continued to kiss him, his eyes grew damp. He was happy here, and it felt good.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

It was good. Jack deserved to feel special. Not just because he was the only fixed point in the universe, but because, to the Doctor, he meant so very, very much. The Doctor never allowed himself to fall in love, and he never allowed himself to get pulled in, but with Jack he willingly did both. And he'd do it again, in a heartbeat.

Pleasure shot up the Doctor's spine at Jack's touch, and he didn't bother to hide how incredibly good it felt. He moaned in the physical world and let Jack share in the pleasure in the mental one.

He grazed his fingernails across Jack's wrist, focusing on how it felt within his mind.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

One thing Jack prided himself on, was his good memory (at least where it mattered). He liked to think any piece of information, once learned, would remain available to him. He put that idea into practise here.

With his touch to the Doctor's mind, he reached his own forward, not deep into thought but against those nerves he'd learned to touch before. And with remembering there was advancing, not content of course to stay still, he wanted to improve.

And so with those fingers on the Doctor's neck, he used something else he'd learned, not much at all, but a little something; he drew shapes on the Doctor's skin. Precise shapes; 1 to 10 in Gallifreyan.

It was quite a deal to be able to focus at all when the Doctor's hand was on his wrist like that, and the waves of pleasure from it sparked out like tendrils to the places he was reaching in the Doctor's mind. And of course he was reaching somewhere precise; to that space of the back of his neck. He tried to touch it both inside and out, and then it sparked all the more as he was touched himself.

"Forget Axios 3," he said breathily as he paused kissing a moment to breathe a little more. "If you could bottle this feeling you could make a fortune."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Nah, wouldn't want to," the Doctor said, brushing his nose against Jack's. "Call me greedy, but I like that it's just between us."

Which, now that he thought about it, was saying more than he had expected. He didn't share this sort of a relationship with other lovers. He didn't connect with them, and he certainly didn't open up like this with them. It was only Jack, and it wasn't even for reasons that the Doctor could properly explain.

He gasped as Jack found the nerves he'd touched before, along with the swirling on the back of his neck and the waves of energy from Jack. Overwhelming wasn't the word. This was an all-encompassing sort of sensation, and he was surprised to find himself holding back so soon. There was no way he would rush this, though.

He reached out mentally, finding similar nerves in Jack's mind. It had been a long time, but he'd long since memorized that night in the luxury ship. All those nerves, all that closeness. He carefully strummed along them, playing Jack like he might a harp.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Jack said, finding himself smiling, "think I can agree with you there."

Such simple words, or at least they sounded that way. But then they meant so much. And he realised that as he thought that, the Doctor could likely hear. But then he kind of liked that too.

He let out a long gasping breath as the Doctor stroked his nerves, they seemed to vibrate within him and along his body, sending his hairs on end. It was a feeling that was utterly indescribable. In all the experiences Jack had had, he'd never had anything quite like that. It was so perfectly Doctor.

Maybe that was what made it so good.

At the same time though, Jack's body itched for more, and to do more. A vivid image of himself and his mouth around the Doctor shot to the forefront of his mind, ripe for the Doctor to see, and in it a wordless question, because he followed that too with another image, himself inside the Doctor. He was giving him a choice.

A choice and a request too.

Tether it he asked in his mind. There was something about feeling that the connection was lasting past his hand falling away.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Both were excellent options. There was also the option of the Doctor inside of Jack, mouth around Jack, stroking him---wow, those were quite a few vivid images the Doctor wasn't aware his imagination could come up with. Jack was a bad influence on him. And, really, the Doctor couldn't care. He loved this.

But! He had to make a choice. Not really fair, putting all of the work to Jack, was it? He opted for the first of Jack's choices, and to follow with the second of his own.

He did as instructed, tethering their connection, wrapping strands of psychic energy like long fishing knots to keep them close. He could feel how much that meant to Jack, and it was good. It felt important to the Doctor, too.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It was rather delicious, all those little pictures Jack could see in the Doctor's mind. They had the same clarity of his own, just as vibrant and just as real. They caused more sparks through his nerves and a somewhat involuntary moan to escape from his lips.

Another wave, and it took him a moment to settle and feel entirely within himself, as though he had been drifting a little, floating. It was a wonderful feeling.

He could feel it as the Doctor knotted their connection, it felt secure and safe, like he couldn't lose him now.

When it was done, and when he was sure of it, he reached for the hand the Doctor held to his face; gently peeling his fingers away, he held them in his own and tilted his head to press a kiss to his wrist, and again further up his arm, following up towards the inside of his elbow before kissing there, his tongue swishing his skin. Inside his mind he swam in the same way and kept the images focussed.

Focussed in fact to the point of distraction and he found himself moaning against the Doctor's skin. He pulled back with a gentle laugh and looked up to his face.

"Got quite a bit going on in that mind of yours there, Doctor," he smirked and slowly slipped back, a kiss to the Doctor's check, another a little lower. Trying to get back in the zone.

You're going to distract me.

He didn't really mind if he did.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Always," he admitted. Even when he didn't want it to.

But Jack's tongue against his elbow shot new waves of pleasure through the Doctor and he couldn't stop himself from crying out.

They were always holding back, weren't they? Well, the Doctor was, at least. The last time he'd let go with Jack was right before he was certain he would die. And he very nearly never let go again. Not until now, not until he was ready to be alive.

Strange, thinking that while they were like this. But it was true. Jack made him feel alive.

We wouldn't want you distracted, the Doctor thought. He traced his nails just above Jack's wrist, and then paired that with a mental image of tasting that time-infused skin. Could he also psychically toy with the nerves in his brain that felt pleasure from that touch? How would Jack react?

A good scientist would need to know.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack was slipping down again, a new trail, kiss by kiss, down his chest, his tongue drawing gentle patterns against his skin. All the while though, he was aware, utterly aware of the Doctor and his hand as it touched and scraped against skin. Close, and really near enough, but then when coupled with those images it was enough to make him fall off kilter and let out another moan.

His wrist seemed to almost vibrate with the feeling and if he let himself, he could believe he was even feeling the Doctor's tongue against his skin.

With a twist of a grin he looked up. "That's cheating," he said, "I wasn't in your head when I did that."

But it should be obvious enough he was far from complaining, and if it weren't he soon punctuated the fact by lifting himself back up and claiming the Doctor's mouth in a hungry kiss. Maybe even more force behind it than he'd ever braved before.

His Doctor, his with some certainty now, and that made him feel awake. Feel alive, like in those first few moments after waking from death. It was like an explosion of colour and light and touch, and that was all because of him.

He continued to kiss him then, and as he did he trailed his hand between them, playfully walking two fingers down the Doctor's chest until he could wrap his hand around him.

Oh hello, he thought, and grinned wickedly into the kiss.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor gasped against Jack's mouth as his hand wrapped around him. So many sensations all at once. If he was the sort of man to worry about that sort of thing, he might imagine Jack was trying to give him a heartsattack, he felt so overloaded with emotion and sensation.

But he wouldn't stop it. Not for a galaxy.

He bucked into the touch, and shared the sensation with Jack. After all, half the fun of being connected to a lover was sharing what they did to you. And, well, what Jack was doing was fantastic, and it was probably best he knew.

His Doctor. He felt that thought go through him, and he couldn't decide how he felt about it. That was what with with was, wasn't it? A sort of belonging? He felt equally petrified at the idea and relieved. Like he belonged by being part of it.

Would that make Jack his Jack? Odd.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

When with a lover, Jack always enjoyed knowing that the other person was enjoying themselves, perhaps even more than himself. So being connected with his mind was really the perfect way to facilitate that desire, and being able to feel the Doctor's pleasure as he did, only seeked to heighten his own.

It was, in many ways, his perfect scenario.

Jack's hand twisted and turned, and changed motion dependant on the way it seemed to cause reaction inside his mind. It was the ideal way for him to find exactly what would spark him without ever having to ask.

He pulled back from the kiss with a smile, and looked down into his eyes, grinning.

"You know more thoughts like that and you're going to inflate that ego of mine." And as if to prove a point, he added a little flair with the way he twisted his hand.

He moved then, started to slide himself down the bed, watching the Doctor's face as he edged lower. And he realised it then, a slight shift in his mind that made him notice what he'd thought had made it across that connection. He wanted to reassure him that he wasn't trying to pin him down, that he never would, that he'd never really want to (apart from in certai-- no that wasn't important here), that the Doctor would always have the universe, and that Jack would never want to stop that.

He wasn't sure how to put that into words. But then of course, he realised, he didn't have to. He'd just thought it all.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

It was always so easy to want to stay free. The Doctor used to think, in his youth, that he was flawed if he wasn't free. But now, here, it...it wasn't so bad, not really. Jack understood adventure, he understood the need to travel. The Doctor could feel Jack's longing to reassure him cross the connection.

There was nothing to be afraid of.

So why was the Doctor still utterly terrified? Probably because of how very, very easy it would be to shatter this. To lose this between them. And, really, if anyone could shatter this, it would be the Doctor----

He felt Jack's mind shift, and he lifted his head to watch Jack lower himself down his body. The term "sexy" seemed like an understatement when Jack had that look in his eye. And the Doctor didn't often use the term "sexy" in general thought.

You do know in some galaxies this is the equivalent of torture, right?

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack could feel his heart beating, but more than that, he could feel the Doctor's hearts beating. Not just hear them, like a distant thud if he were to put his hand over the Doctor's chest or his fingers to his wrist. But he could feel them like the beat of his own heart. Three hearts, beating together, racing together.

And the Doctor's hearts really were racing.

He looked to him again, and he understood that, that feeling he felt from him, that almost fear. But that was good to feel that. It was all just as important as the rest. To feel the excitement, the love, the sheer amount of it all? Well that was frightening. And it was wonderful.

But this wasn't going anywhere; a feeling Jack made quite clear. It wasn't something that he was going to allow now, from either of them.

But then those thoughts were swiftly distracted. Jack had been called sexy of course, many a time. But never had hearing the word sent a wave up his spine as it did when hearing it from him, even in his mind.

He grinned then, looking at him, and moved that extra distance to replace his hand with his mouth.

Well I am skilled in all methods of interrogation, of course.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Wouldn't expect anything less, captain.

The Doctor grinned as he felt the pleasure from Jack. He liked that his words had that affect on him. It wouldn't be particularly fair if the Doctor was the only one affected by Jack, would it?

He let out a quiet moan as Jack's mouth replaced his hand. Oooh, he could've easily reached release from the mental stimulation from before, but there was something very intimate about the actual act of, well, this that made it more important. Special. His fingers curled in Jack's hair as he offered him a taste of the pleasure he felt from his mouth as well as his mind.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Then I'd better make sure I live up to expectations then.

Jack often prided himself on being able to tell what people enjoyed, just from the twist of a body or the echo of a moan. But he'd never been so privy to the precise details and sparks of how it was enjoyed and how it felt.

Part of him thought he could use that to make his skills just that little more honed. But then a bigger part of him realised just how distracting it was to be able to feel how it felt for his own tongue to be stimulating the Doctor. He felt himself letting out a moan, both against his skin and inside his mind, and he felt that echo back through both channels.

It spurred him on. He twisted his mouth and turned his tongue and found himself almost doing it in a way which he'd like himself. Unintentional, of course, but almost a result of the feelings.

He pulled back a moment, time to breathe, but replaced his mouth again with his hand.

"You know I could get used to doing it like this."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

From a scientific standpoint, it was a fascinating cycle.

The Doctor felt the pleasure from the touch, which Jack could then interpret, which would then cycle through him and back to the Doctor who would revel in that sensation as well. There was, quite literally, no way not to feel very, very good. It was all a bit dizzying, actually. Also informative, since he could tell Jack's movements were more tailored to himself. The Doctor tucked that information away for later.

Jack's words brought a laugh to the Doctor's lips. "Makes you wonder why Time Lords were so closed-minded," he said. He sat up and leaned over, pressing his mouth against Jack's.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Some dramatic cover up," Jack said, pausing enough to return the Doctor's kiss, his mouth half parted and lips slightly swollen.

Maybe they worked it out, he went on, thinking instead of speaking, realised that it people discovered this then the whole of Gallifrey would never get out of bed.

His hand continued to twist and work and before long he parted and returned down, covering him with his lips and working just that little bit harder to pull moans and waves of pleasure from the Doctor, for the both of them.

He found himself having to pause though, and letting out a slight laugh.

"At this rate I'm going to be over before you've even got your hands on me," he said with an amused smirk, looking up at him before gathering himself enough to return to the task with the express aim of bringing him to the tipping point.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Can't have that," the Doctor said. He leaned back, his body pulsing with pleasure at Jack's movements. The physical and the psychic, each working to bring the Doctor closer and closer to release.

He focused on reigning Jack in. He wasn't about to be denied returning to Jack what he's given to the Doctor. He psychically pulls him back, tracing cool hands along nerve planes and trying to soothe while he shared his own pleasure.

His movements became shakier as he felt himself losing a grip on his control. All of the stimulation, all of the psychic closeness...

"Jack!" he cried out, psychically and physically.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Inside his mind Jack felt a soft chill. It was like the cool side of a pillow, or an ice pack on a hot day. It seemed to soothe at the parts of himself that could go too far. Gentle like the touch of the Doctor's cool skin. It was a nice sensation, and it allowed him to show just that little more focus onto the Doctor.

Exactly what he needed and wanted in that moment.

His fingers pressed into the skin at the Doctors thighs as he felt his hips start to buckle and move, feeling him tip over the edge both inside and out. His name called in a way that seemed to echo right through him. He wasn't sure anything had ever sounded so perfect.

He stayed there, making sure he pulled out every ounce of pleasure from the Doctor that he could. His tongue paying complete attention to him. And when he was sure he was done, he pulled his head back, looking up at him and licking his lips rather salaciously.

Moving back, he crawled back up the Doctor's body and whispered in a husky tone, "Now I could do that every day," and he pressed himself close down against him, meeting his lips with his own and kissing him deeply.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor could taste himself on Jack's mouth, and that was quite the seductive sensation in and of itself. He kissed back as though it were breathing. In a way, it felt like it was. His energy went into Jack who then fed it back into the Doctor. Like respiration. Well, a bit more like chemosymbiosis, to be honest. Jack took the sulfides the Doctor couldn't process and made them into workable, usable sugars. The Doctor, in turn, shared the energy with Jack and with the help of the TARDIS, who the Doctor supposed could be photosynthetic bacteria in this rather extravagant metaphor---

Nah, he didn't need metaphors. This was good as it was.

"You know," the Doctor said, grinning. "I don't really think I'd mind that on a regular basis, no."

My turn.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack found himself laughing, just slightly against the Doctor's lips, because from the vague sense from his mind he got he had the feeling he was being compared to something that was about as far away from sexy as he could imagine. But then there was something utterly wonderful in just precisely what the Doctor did find sexy. He didn't really mind or matter what, he was just good to be on that list.

"Oh you better be careful saying things like that," Jack smirked, "I'll hold you to it." And then, almost idly, "Have you ever had sex on the console? Because, you know, I think we should."

His smirk grew even wider as he heard the Doctor in his head and he leaned in for yet another kiss.

On now there's an offer I would never refuse.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor very firmly put a door in front of a memory that wanted to appear with Jack's question. No time for those distractions, certainly not in their current situation. The TARDIS, he imagined, would probably be terribly insulted. Still...it could be fun. And the Doctor did promise himself that there'd be more fun with them.

He leaned up with the kiss, gently pushing Jack backwards toward the bed, so the Doctor could move on top. As he moved, he brushed his mind along the nerves up and down Jack's legs, starting at the feet and moving upwards in long, sweeping motions, like a paintbrush. Jack was more experienced with the physical, but the Doctor knew his stuff psychically.

Which was not to say that he wouldn't be physical, too. He broke the kiss and slowly began tracing his lips down Jack's throat.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

There was a slight sudden blankness in the Doctor's mind and Jack suspected (as much as he had time for suspecting in a situation like this) that he was blocking something off. That was fine though. Jack would never want to know all of the Doctor's secrets, just as he'd never give away all of his.

Jack moved back as the Doctor pushed against him, gently moving back to switch positions and turn himself to press his back to the bed. As he moved, he felt his body start to tingle, an almost orgasmic buzz from his toes up towards his torso and he let out a hum of a moan against the Doctor's lips.

His head moved and he caught himself in a heavy breath.

"Okay, clever," Jack said, and he balled a hand into a fist in the sheets beside him.

"You know I'm making--" another moan, "--mental notes on all this, right?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

I certainly hope so, the Doctor thought in his direction, keeping his mouth occupied with kissing along the plane of Jack's chest. He traced his tongue around one nipple. He traced out the word for 'Doctor' above Jack's heart, and only mildly worried that it was too sentimental an action.

When did he start becoming sentimental? Really? Jack did bring out the worst in him sometimes.

He traced the cold through Jack's torso, now, sliding the sensation just below his mouth as it kissed down his ribcage and hip.

He felt Jack's moan rather than heard it, and the loop of sensation went through the Doctor as strongly as if he were the one lying on the bed. Really, there was absolutely no reason they couldn't do this more often.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack was not the sort of lover who thought he needed to keep his enjoyment and appreciation quiet, and so he didn't now. He moaned again when the sensation rose across his body and mixed with the physical feeling of the Doctor's tongue against his skin.

He didn't recognise the shape drawn against his skin, but he felt in the Doctor's mind just what it was. It made him feel good, and that feeling too echoed through him.

He reached out his free hand and touched it against the Doctor's hair. (That hair, he really loved the fact he could touch that hair).

Oh that's good he thought, and his words in his head were barely more than a moan there too.