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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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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."

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"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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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."

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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."

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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."

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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.

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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.

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He did as instructed, feeling rather vulnerable, physically and emotionally. He wasn't Jack, he sought comfort in forgetting and running rather than sexual partners. It had been, well, quite a while.

Maybe in another fifty years, or a hundred years, he'd go back, he'd see if the threat was gone, he'd---

He silenced that part of his mind. There were things Jack was better off not knowing. It was better off not spoiling this moment together.

He leaned down and kissed Jack again, more firmly, as though he could hold this moment in place forever if he just tried hard enough.

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"It's okay, it's okay," Jack urged, feeling the Doctor's nerves and emotions spill across. "I'm here. This is me. Not going to let anything happen to you, am I? Just you and me."

The two of them, how things should be.

Carefully, Jack reached under the Doctor and he smoothed his hand over his behind, his fingers slick and gentle with their touch as he pressed one cautiously against him.

He returned his kiss and tried to dive into it. He felt like if the Doctor left, he could sleep then, sleep forever because this wouldn't be there. And so every little moment, every second of it was so much more important.

Now come forward, he thought to him. And in your own time, lower yourself. I'll guide you.

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It was good, having some instruction, it made it easier. The Doctor gasped against Jack's mouth as his fingers pressed against him, and then slowly lowered himself backwards onto Jack.

He was sobering up, now. The gravity of what they were doing, of what the Doctor had confessed emotionally, it had come back to him.

But he was in too deep to back out. And he didn't want to. He never wanted to go.

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Slowly, carefully, Jack guided the Doctor as he lowered onto him. He took a long heaving breath against the Doctor's lips and a heaving gasp as he felt his skin tight around him.

It hadn't been a long time since Jack had done this, of course, not a long time at all. But it had been a long time since he'd done it with him, and a long time since the act had mattered at all.

But it mattered now.

Gently, as the Doctor moved down, Jack pressed himself upwards, holding a hand against the small of the Doctor's back to hold him there. Keep him.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the Doctor. "Feel good?" he asked softly.

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He stretched as Jack slid within him, and he winced just a bit at Jack's girth. He probably should've...well, nothing really to be done for it, that was simply how it was.

"Bit sore," he admitted. "Been a while."

Still, it felt very good, Jack inside of him, looking down at him and just being with him. He rocked his body, moving very slightly against Jack without moving them apart, not yet. He let the feeling of pleasure move from his fingertips to Jack's mind.

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"Sorry," Jack whispered back, almost sheepishly. "I'll take it slow."

He turned his head slightly and pressed his lips to the side of the Doctor's wrist before looking back at him.

Somehow, being with the Doctor made it more apparent just how hard it was to be without him. The pain was almost stronger with him there, because he knew he'd be gone, and Jack could do nothing but think of the shell he'd be after.

He knew that would filter through. He knew it and he found himself apologising in his mind. He didn't want to make this moment sad. He wanted to enjoy it, and so he tried to focus and reach his hand between them, grasping hold of the Doctor and slowly starting to stroke him.

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The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, and it was going to be quite the cheeky reply, too, but Jack began to stroke him and really, at that point the idea of coherent thought wasn't really possible. He leaned his forehead against Jack's and let out a low moan, the sensations he'd denied himself all this time flooding back into his system.

More stable mentally, he did what Jack had learned that first night they were together, temporarily tying off the psychic bonds between them to keep them linked while freeing up the Doctor's hand. It took two tries, but he finally tied them together, and moved his hand from Jack's temple back to his wrist. He raised Jack's wrist to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the skin there, then retraced the Gallifreyan word he'd made with his finger before, this time with his tongue.

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Jack sucked in a deep breath as the Doctor touched his lips to his wrist. The connection was still there, he could feel it; the Doctor there in his mind. It wasn't something he could easily describe. It was a feeling of not being alone. Vulnerable, yet protected. It was a series of contradictions. But that seemed exactly how things should be with them.

He just wished that bond would last longer than the few hours it ever did.

The moan shuddered through Jack and made him release his own. He wondered if there was any other sound that was quite as good. And he wondered too when the Doctor had become quite his hot button.

Cautiously and carefully Jack shifted his hips, rocking against him to delicately move inside him. Not too much, not too sharp a shift. He didn't want to hurt him, anything but.

Though, he had to admit, and admit in his mind in a way that was quite clear to hear, that he really wouldn't mind if after he left, the Doctor could still feel him.

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"I always do," the Doctor replied against Jack's lips. He took Jack's wrist and moved it so his hand was over his right heart. "Here."

Unfairly sentimental, but it was the truth.

Jack shifted his hips and the Doctor moved with him, letting out another moan at the sensation mixed with Jack's touch. He could be like this, with him, forever. Forever and never, that was Jack and the Doctor.

He placed his own desire and pleasure back to Jack, sharing the sensations, sharing their link and their bond.