RP for mrsharker

[quitehomoerotic]

It's early evening and in the half light the Bay has a comfortable quiet. Jack sent the team off to have a little social time. They've all worked so hard lately and they could do with it. He went for a walk, somewhere with a high roof and a vantage point for him to look over the city.

He's back on his way home now, taking a slow stroll down Lloyd George Avenue and back towards Butetown and the Bay. Outside the Millennium centre are couples and people milling around, all preparing for an evening of entertainment. It makes Jack smile as he seems them all, all safe in this city he loves so much.

On his way across the Plass he takes a slight de-tour to one of the poster boards, to take a look at just what these people are waiting to see. The sight before him though is not one he expects, and one he's far from prepared for.

The face is familiar, oh so familiar, and his breath gets caught in his chest, taking him a moment or two to realise he isn't breathing at all.

"It can't be," he whispers, but there's nobody there to listen.

Jack's eyes are swimming and he's glued to the spot. This can't be right, he's sure this can't be right. Just an odd co-incidence. Someone who happens to look similar. It has to be. It can't be her.

But it doesn't hurt to make sure. So instead of back to the Hub, Jack heads into the Millennium center and with the aid of the word 'Torchwood', he goes backstage.

Comments

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

She cocks her head a little, taunting him with the look in her eyes. He's never been like this before, and it's glorious. Mina wants to see how deep this new vein in him runs, how far and hard she can push before he folds like a house of cards. Stop it? she thinks, make me.

"I shouldn't have mentioned Vlad?" Faux-innocence, and the touch of intimacy. She's never used the vampire's first name to Jona-- Jack's face before. It's only been in recent years when referring to 'Dracula' seemed awfully camp that she's adopted that form of address.

One hand, almost as though it were an unconscious movement (it's not: she wants to see his reaction), cups and rubs the side of her neck, blatant in its implications.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack feels on fire with rage. The implication she's making is obvious, and he hates it, he completely hates it with every atom of his being.

His anger takes over and his hand reach for both her wrists, gripping them with a tight control as he pushes her back until she hits the wall. There's fire in his eyes as he stares at her.

"I don't want to hear it, Mina." His voice sounds almost animalistic. Full of rage and heat. "Stop trying to taunt me."

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

She could break his grip if she wanted to, easy as a lie, but this is new and fascinating, and if she's being entirely honest, Mina's more than a little aroused by this side of him. And finding herself in this position again reminds her of someone else entirely, so she's content (mostly) to leave the shadow of the vampire behind them.

"Why?" she asks. "Why would I stop when the reaction is so good?"

She thinks she can smell the return of his arousal under the fury, the possessiveness and it just makes her grin.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It makes him shiver at the confirmation that this is all being done purposefully. That her aim is to strike a reaction. He looks at her for a moment in utter shock. So far she's come from the woman he knew.

"You think this is good?" He growls, even more angered by the insinuation. His grip on her wrists tighten and he pushes them back, practically pinned to the wall.

"You won't break me."

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

"'Break you'? Oh, darling, I'm not trying."

Mina draws in her breath in a grinning open-mouthed half-gasp, enthralled by this side of him. Good? Yes: this is very, very good.

"Is that what you want, love? Do you want to hurt me?"

This new side of him truly thrills her.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack laughs now, but his laughter is dark and unnerving. Uncomfortable.

"No. Mina. No I don't want to hurt you. I never would." He smirks, he knows just what she's doing. He leans in, whispers right into her ear. "But I think you want me to try. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Don't test me, Mina."

His grip tightens once again and he pushes her hands against the wall.

"Don't."

He lets go of her now and takes a step back, shaking his head. He's still on edge, still ready to explode. He doesn't want to find out what he'd do if he did.

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

"I don't think you could," she drawls, slightly disdainful. She trails a fingertip along his jaw, down his throat. "More's the pity. It's nice to see a little backbone, husband."

Her entire being is on edge: what's genuinely 'nice', if that word can be used so inappropriately, is that it seems to be mutual. His nerves look to be jangling, too.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh I could." He growls, pressing his hand against her stomach. His other reaches towards her shoulder, but doesn't pause there, continues to move until his hand is almost around her neck, his thumb over her throat.

His voice turns south. A sultry almost evil sounding whisper. "So what do you want, Mina Harker? What are you trying to get from me?"

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

What does she want? She has no idea beyond the dangerous, alluring reactions she's wringing out of him.

It's intoxicating to keep herself poised on the very edge of her extremely precarious control like this -- to take whatever he's throwing at her and not retaliate, not because she can't but because she chooses not to. Because she chooses to watch him take the reins. Because he's her husband, and she was always a good wife, loving and tender and submissive to his will.

"Could you, really?" she smiles, realising that she has no answer for his question and isn't ready to give him her silence just yet.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh yeah I could." He hisses out, his voice raspy and raw. The truth in it is unsure though. She's one of the last people in the world he'd ever want to hurt.

He tests her just a little, his thumb pressing down against her throat, just slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to be felt. He can feel her blood racing underneath, and that too spurs him on. She likes this, he thinks. She's enjoying it. And maybe, maybe he can admit that he is too.

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

Her response is another one of those open-mouthed gasps that's almost a pant, and to tip her head back slightly, goading him on.

Yes, she absolutely likes this side of him. She likes the danger. And on some level, she likes the fact that he might just be able to handle her vampire side.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

He laughs again, just as before. A laugh that's deep and vaguely unpleasant. He could hurt her now, he thinks. Just one press of his finger. He knows just how to do it, just where to apply pressure.

But he doesn't want to, not to her. Not unless it's completely necessary.

"Push me all you like," he grits out. "But I'll never hurt you. Never."

The hand on her stomach rises though. A move that's utterly sexual. Follows the line of the corsetry beneath, coming to rest over her breast, just holding there. The other hand still poised on her neck.

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

"What if I need you to at some point?" There: under the taunting vampire, a frightened woman. There's no animal-rasp to her voice there, just a soft plea.

She arches into his touch, though, feline and sensuous.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Ahhh, and now Jack feels it. Jack sees it, what's underneath so much of this. His grip tightens, but changes a little, supportive now, an undercurrent to what was there before.

"If I need to stop you, then I'll be here to do that. But until then I'm not harming a hair on your head." His voice softens too, matches the tone in hers.

And then an almost warning. "Just trust me. I could."

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

Part of her yearns to ask him to prove it, to put her mind to rest, but the cat's out of the emotional-bag now and she won't beg. She's never been that sort.

"Do you promise?" Mina murmurs, and finally lowers her hands from the position he'd held them pinned before. She strokes her fingertips across his cheek.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Of course I do," he whispers, his hand lifting now from her neck to her face.

And gently. "I'll protect you from yourself. When I have to. Not until then."

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

She closes her eyes and leans into his touch. "I've missed you. So much."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack softens, his eyes feeling full again. "And I've missed you too. I think about you constantly, you know. I always will."

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

"Fibber," she teases tenderly, moving into his arms.

She doesn't expect that. Doesn't really know how to handle it: she's been alone a long time now. But it's good to know that there's someone out there who might be capable of stopping her forcibly if she required stopping.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh, hey, now that is fighting talk." He jokes.

"Just me and you here, okay?" He whispers. Ever so gently referencing he pre-mentioned lover. "We deserve tonight."

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

"Do we? Do people like us deserve anything, Jack?" Mina asks, feeling her age all of a sudden. She brushes a kiss to his cheek and moves to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"I -- I apologize for my earlier behavior. It was uncalled for."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"We do." Jack nods, utterly sure of it. "It doesn't matter what we are, but what we do. What we make of what we've got. That's what we should be proud of."

He shifts over with her, reaching for her hand, shaking his head as he sits.

"Don't. I prompted it. If anything it's my fault for asking you to see me. I shouldn't have reacted to it. But I did. There's no blame here."

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

Well, yes. He has a very large, extremely pointy point there. Not that she'd ever say it out loud. But she quite agrees. Quite.

It doesn't stop her from clasping his hand in her own, or from leaning against him. She's feeling every one of her one hundred and fifty years.

"How old are you?" Mina asks, seemingly from nowhere.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"How old am I?" Jack repeats, not expecting the question. He shrugs a little and looks back to her. "I try not to think about it. About..." he trails, looking thoughtful. "About a hundred and seventy, seventy five. Something like that, give or take a few years, I guess."

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

Her first thought is oh, so not too much older than I am, which is swiftly tempered by her ability to do arithmetic.

"You were more than twice my age when we got married? You old perv!"