For rude_not_ginger:Two Immortals One TARDIS Insert scene. Valent

[quitehomoerotic]

It had been 50 years since Jack had seen the Doctor. It had been 50 years since Jack had been Jack. 50 years, and he still felt the same. Some days he hated that, it frustrated him and annoyed him and made him want to scream. And some days, it just made him lonely. This was one of those days.

It was Valentines day. A stupid Earth holiday that really meant nothing, but people put so much stock into. Everywhere you went there were balloons shaped like hearts and people holding hands and declaring their love. It made Jack grumpy, and he could never and would never explain why.

So he shut himself away from it. He was in a small flat in a city that seemed to be nothing but small flats. Somewhere full of people where he could at the same time, be completely alone.

And he sat on his own, watching broadcasts on a television with a bottle of scotch to soothe his pains.

50 years, and it still felt like yesterday.

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It wasn't that Jack had forgotten how this worked; not like he didn't know that a connection opened would let through thoughts and emotions and everything in between. But it wasn't quite so second nature now, it had been a long time, and when the Doctor responded verbally to something that was only mentally spoken, Jack was almost shocked.

He wasn't going to shy away from it though, and really, now that he knew he was glad. "Yes," he said, moving his head forward to kiss a line along the Doctor's neck.

"All yours. Only yours."

Jack had had sex with a lot of people since the Doctor, but none of that mattered, they weren't him.

The noise, the sound of his moaning, and the reaction both inside and out, it was intoxicating, and Jack continued the movements with his hand, more of the same, never too much, stroking and twisting and touching.

And oh it looked so good to see him like that.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He wasn't nearly as coordinated as Jack, but he stroked him with the same slow movements, twisting his long fingers around the shaft and applying pressure as he went up. He sought out Jack's responses in his mind and reacted accordingly. Well, what he hoped was accordingly. Lots of thoughts going by very fast with lots of alcohol swishing them about.

He'd wanted to come here before. To find Jack, to apologize, or to just hold him. Sometimes, on lonely nights, to be like this with him. He never did, though. He never had the courage to even call. Now, here they were.

He murmured Jack's name as he felt his warm mouth along his neck. He wanted to do so much with him, now. He wanted to be on top, to be taken by Jack, to just stay like this---so much, but there wasn't enough time. Only one night. Only now.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Whether it was intentional or not, Jack could hear the stream of thoughts and consciousness coming from the Doctor. He wondered if he knew what he was thinking. Jack wanted to tell him that he could always come to him, that no matter what happened, if he needed someone, Jack would be there. After all, that was what Jack did, wasn't it?

It probably shouldn't have, but it felt good to know that when the Doctor was lonely, it was him he thought of. Because he was still there waiting for him. Still needing him.

For a moment he thought of looking in the Doctor's mind and probing for the reason he left him on that planet at that ball all those years aog. But that wouldn't be fair, would it? It wasn't his information to take.

He saw all the things the Doctor wanted, and he wanted all of those too. But he saw the caveat that came with the desire. One night, never enough.

So he tapped gently at his arm and gestured him towards the other side of the bed. Briefly, he shot an image through to him, one of himself sitting up with the Doctor sitting straddling him. Him inside the Doctor, and the two of them kissing. Quite a romantic image, really. And that was what he wanted.

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The Doctor's eyes widened at the image. Right, that was a good idea. Combining several of the Doctor's internal fantasies and making them into one. Now that, that was skill.

"Blimey, that's detailed," he said, shooting Jack an impressed look. "But is that really what my hair looks like from the back?"

He was teasing, of course, though he promptly moved as Jack instructed him. He thought he knew exactly where he needed to go next, but the edge of the bed came a bit sooner than he expected, and he tumbled off in a heap.

"Ow."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"What, you expect any less from me?" Jack said back with a wide grin. "Had to have something to keep me going all these years haven't I?"

He let out a warm laugh and started to move on the bed. But that was of course when the Doctor suddenly disappeared. His hand removed, the connection severed. It was unpleasant and sharp but Jack reminded himself the Doctor was still there.

"Don't suppose that knocked some sense into you, did it?" Jack teased as he moved over to help him up. "Come here."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor reached out and took his hand, then pulled himself up on the bed. His ego was thoroughly bruised, as were his knees, but he'd survive. He'd probably never live it down, but he'd survive.

"Been more dignified, I think," he said, sniffing a little. He reached out for Jack's head again and brushed his hair back, focusing on the feel of that, the feel of the physical touch, before moving to connect them again.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack smiled at the Doctor as he settled up on the bed. "Yeah well I don't need dignity," he said. And no, he didn't, he needed him. How was he possibly going to cope when this was over?

He doubted he would.

As the Doctor touched him, Jack's eyes closed and he let out a long breath.

"Don't suppose you can tether that there permanently, can you?" he asked, only partly serious. It would be nice though, he thought. Even if he never saw him again, to know there was that. Still together somehow.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"It's been done before," he said, massaging Jack's skin as he kept them linked. "But I couldn't possibly now. Can barely keep track of my own thoughts as it is."

It occasionally happened, maybe a dozen or two times in Gallifreyan history. The equivalent of marriage, but those were very rare.

But when this was over, he'd leave. Jack would be alone, he would be alone. And how would it be fair, to leave Jack tethered like that? Jack deserved to move on. He didn't deserve the Doctor showing up in his thoughts for the rest of his life.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Oh the Doctor would be in Jack's thoughts. It didn't take a psychic link for that. He'd always be there. Much a part of him as anything could be.

"I know," Jack said. He let out a long breath and tried to smile. "You know if this is the break up sex it's been a long time coming," he tried to tease and laugh but it wasn't really there.

He wished he could fall into it and forget all else, but he couldn't. And he found himself whispering a question; "Is this the last time I'll ever see you again?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Break-up sex. What a thing to call it. It was almost enough for the Doctor to leave in a drunken rage. It wasn't as simple as a breakup, they weren't as simple as exes and he didn't want this to be the last time. He never wanted it to end.

So no, he mentally informed Jack. Not break-up sex. Just...sex.

As for Jack's next question, it took the Doctor by surprise. See him again? Wasn't that the idea? One more time and never again? Could he really stay away? He had to stay away and he knew it, but could he really?

"Not if I'm lucky," the Doctor replied, giving him a smile.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

And there, almost to Jack's surprise, was a glimmer of hope.

It was quite obvious here that neither of them had wanted this over, neither of them wanted it over still. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn't. Maybe it was just on pause. A very very long pause.

Jack felt for a moment, like himself and the confident teasing that came next was completely real.

"Lucky? Of course you're lucky. You've got Captain Jack Harkness kissing you."

And on that, he leaned in and he kissed him like his life depended on it.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

It was wrong to give Jack hope. It was wrong for the Doctor to hope, too, but he did. He hoped and internally prayed that at some point the things that kept them apart would vanish. Maybe he'd go back, in a hundred or two hundred years, and see if something had changed. He'd go back and find out, and if it had, he'd go and find Jack.

Captain Jack Harkness. The name felt different to Jack, the Doctor felt it in his mind. But that's who he was, to the Doctor. He'd always be Jack, always be the hero and the conman he fell in love with.

He kissed Jack back with the same desperation, and reached down to Jack's wrist---the Doctor's place---and moved to unbuckle the vortex manipulator.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack felt himself very nearly shaking as the Doctor moved towards his wrist. He was nervous- No, no not nervous, but there, that place? It meant something. It was his barriers down, and not that they weren't already, but it was one place, so firmly kept for the Doctor, and well, he'd hardly expected to see him back here now.

He didn't shy away from it though, he wanted it, he wanted him. He wanted to pretend that this would stay. He wanted to pretend that when the Doctor's sobriety returned he'd still want to be with him. It cut through him to think he wouldn't.

But no. No he wasn't going to let that thought consume him. He wasn't going to waste this here and now. He would hold onto that hope, however distant.

Gently, once again, he tugged on his arm and pulled him up towards the other end of the bed.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor felt Jack's emotions coursing thorough him as though they were his own. The not-nervousness and the desire and the fear of loss, it was all there, it was all just under the surface.

He moved where Jack wanted him to, but broke the kiss and looked up to him, trying to figure out exactly where to go next. If he were even a little more sober, he might've been able to push away his drunken state, but he was too far gone, there was too much alcohol in his system.

Are you sure this is what you want? he asked, mentally. It was the equivalent of asking for permission, reaffirming what they knew, and putting up a barrier in case Jack wanted to back out of it.

Any more, and they couldn't go back.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack let out a quiet breath of a laugh. He glanced his eyes down a moment and looked again back up at him.

It was always what he wanted, he thought, and it was ridiculous to think he ever wouldn't. To think he'd ever want anything else. He'd spent the last 50 years trying to match up to the Doctor, but here, finally, he had him. How could he not? Even if it was this and nothing else.

But, despite what he wanted, the question sharply highlighted something, and Jack let out a long sigh before replying verbally.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he said, almost sadly. "You're drunk," he pointed out. "If you were sober, you wouldn't be here doing this."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"No," the Doctor admitted with a sad nod. "But I'd be thinking about it."

He opened up his mind, showing Jack how much he missed him, some of the long nights spent staring at the console, considering how to find him and then chickening out at the last minute, thinking he saw him on planets but never following, just in case he was right. He wanted to be here, but he wouldn't have allowed himself to be if it wasn't for a lowered worry of consequences.

"I could sober up," he offered. He smirked. "If you're willing to wait."

He didn't want to.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack took a heavy breath as the memories started to flood through the connection. It was a surprise. A surprise and completely overwhelming.

Over the last 50 years Jack had been of the opinion that the Doctor left him because he didn't want him any more. He thought something had happened that made him want to leave him. Well, that much was true, but perhaps it was never what he thought it was.

It threw confusion into everything he had thought, and it made him want to re-evaluate it all. And maybe he would. But not right now.

He pressed his forehead forward against the Doctor's and took a deep breath. "50 years," he said. "I think I've waited long enough."

And he leaned in to kiss him again as he sent a wave of emotion along the connection. A wave of his love for him.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor wanted to tell him. Mind muddled as it was, it even seemed like a good idea. But an overriding fear, one he'd spent fifty years pounding into himself, kept him from speaking or even thinking about it. He couldn't. He just couldn't. And this was all they could have and he knew it, even if it broke his hearts.

He kissed Jack back, drinking in his emotion and letting it fill him. This had to be enough, knowing that Jack still loved him and showing Jack that he loved him. This had to be enough.

He let his fingers go back to Jack's wrist, to gently trace along the flesh in soft circles. Circles that spelled out words like 'forever', things they both wanted but could never have.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack wanted to ask him. He wanted to be able to understand it, and make sense of it. If the Doctor wanted him, if he'd had all those moments of just wanting to find him, why didn't he? There had to be some reason, some important reason. Maybe knowing it would make things easier. Maybe it would make them worse.

But he couldn't ask. He couldn't demand that information. So he hid that desire and focussed on the many others that might at least be sated for a while.

He shuddered inside just a little as he was touched there, it felt almost more than it ever had. So unused to contact. And with that sensitivity he could just about feel what was being written. It made his ears burn with the threat of tears. But he wouldn't let himself cry.

Don't forget me, he said in his mind. Because maybe memories was all they'd have.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

You're part of my hearts, Jack, the Doctor replied. I could never forget you.

It was possibly a really sappy thing to think, he thought. But it was how he felt, how he'd felt these last fifty years. The Doctor gave Jack part of his hearts and he never got them back, never wanted them back. He wanted things to be the way they were, he wanted them to be the way they had been, he never wanted it to be over. He didn't want this to be as much a goodbye as it was a reunion.

But he wouldn't think about that. He'd think about this, now.

I want you.

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So much. So many emotions. So many things that Jack could simply allow to tear him apart. Even the good ones, they were bittersweet.

Good, Jack thought back. That's what matters.

He reached his hand forward to cradle the Doctor's head and he kissed him once more.

All yours he said mentally.

"Even when you're gone."

Another kiss, and he whispered against his lips as he gestured him further along the bed. "Come here, come on."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

And he would leave, because he had to. He felt a bit like crying, and figured he must've regained at least some of his senses, because he was holding that in, now.

Just now. Now, that was what mattered, like Jack said. Well, thought.

The kiss he gave back to Jack was gentle and slow, and he tried to put in it all of his emotions rather than just his desires.

"I haven't the faintest idea where I should be on this bed," he admitted, giving Jack a little awkward smile. "And there's an edge here and I'd rather not fall off it again."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack smiled gently at the Doctor. Smiling was better than crying.

"Don't worry," he said, stroking his hand up through the side of his hair. "I'll look after you."

And he would. It was strange but it felt almost like his purpose; looking after the Doctor. It gave him a reason, and he'd lost that for so long. So if he could only look after him now, he would. Oh he would.

"Just follow my lead," he said and gently moved back from him. It broke the connection for a moment, but not for too long, he hoped. He moved back to the back of the bed, sitting upright against the headboard. With a small move he leaned over and reached for his bedside drawer, pulling a small (largely empty) bottle from it.

"Come sit over me," Jack said as he reached a hand back towards him. "There's no rush."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor moved slowly, deliberately, trying to keep himself in balance and his emotions in check. This was probably a very bad idea. He ran for a reason, but that reason felt far away, now. Right now, it was just them and the longing they'd had for each other.

He sat over Jack, and reached his hand to his temple. The connection was smooth, instantaneous, as though they'd always linked this way and always would.

If only they could.

I love you. The words came to the Doctor again, easier this time because it was thought. Simple fact, that. He loved Jack, and that would never go away.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack felt like he could cry. He wanted to cry. It felt so right to be with him like this, hold him and touch him and kiss him and do so many things that they never would.

He felt his heart skip a beat and he leaned in to kiss him softly, slowly.

With his hands he reached for the bottle and opened the cap, squeezing a little out onto his hand as he reached between them and smoothed it over himself.

"Lift up," he said quietly as he wrapped a hand around the Doctor's side, touching gently to his behind.

And quietly, so quietly in his mind. If you ever decide you can come back. Any time. Whatever reason you're staying away from me, if that goes, I'll be there.