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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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.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

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.

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Jack's fingers closed gently over the Doctor's chest. Beneath his fingers he could feel the Doctors hearts beating. Nothing quite like that.

"Listen to you," Jack said softly, almost teasing. "Leave you alone for five minutes and you go all sentimental on me."

Making light of it, of course, but only gently, and only on the surface. In truth it meant so much that the Doctor thought that. Meant so much and made his own heart swell and his eyes tear up. It was good though, and despite the sadness in it, the tears were good ones.

He let out a deep moan of his own and pressed himself a little more against him as he reached his touch into the Doctor's mind, trying to remember how he used to reach for those nerves at the back of his neck. He remembered it, just like riding a bike.

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"Yeah, well, I---"

And there was another positively wonderful cheeky comment lost because of Jack's meddling with the Doctor's nerves. He cried out at the feeling of nerves that had been long ignored suddenly alight with sensation, Jack within him and all around him, and being linked so close.

He moved his hips to try to give Jack a steady rhythm, to give him as much as he was giving back. The initial soreness was gone, replaced by how absolutely amazing it all felt.

He leaned forward and pressed another kiss to Jack's mouth, wondering if the actual act was as good, to Jack, as the image he'd conjured up was.

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"Oh do you really?" Jack replied with a self appreciating grin. At least for now, the worry, the sadness, it was fading to the back, because here the Doctor was making those noises, and he could concentrate on little else.

As the Doctor moved his hips Jack had more room for leverage, and so he used that to his advantage by pushing up and starting to thrust into him. He tried to remember from those many years ago just what the Doctor liked; what he'd reacted to, and he pushed in a cautious rhythm once, twice, and sharper on the third, harder and deeper before repeating the actions over.

In his mind, he continued to brush at those nerves, and as he was kissed the concentration faltered and his playing in the Doctor's mind drifted, almost wrapping around them, sending currents to the Doctor's lips as they kissed, his own lips tingling against his as he let out a moan.

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He moved his body along with Jack's, reacting not only to the sensations Jack gave him and the mental connection they shared, but also to Jack's feelings as he made involuntary sounds of pleasure. It felt amazing, being so utterly wanted.

Jack. Whoever he'd been before, it didn't matter. Right now, it was Jack and the Doctor.

He never wanted to forget this. He never wanted to lose this moment, this moment where they managed to cross space and time and still find each other, still love each other despite it.

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There had to be a way, Jack thought. Some loophole in whatever it was that meant the Doctor would leave. Some way of getting around it for more than one night. Jack wasn't short of one night stands, but rarely did he have them with people he loved.

The person he loved. Because it seemed it had got to the point that aside from the Doctor, all others seemed to pale in comparison.

Jack could hear the noises the Doctor made, the sounds of their bodies together, the rush of emotions between them, and it was beautiful.

"Doctor," Jack moaned back aloud. A name he'd moaned so many times in such a situation, but it hadn't been him, not until here.

He moved a little faster, tilting his hips slightly against him to shift the positioning just a little as he tried to send a mental jolt down the Doctor's spine and into his groin, stimulating it from the inside.

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The Doctor cried out again at the jolt, and tried to send a mirror of it back to Jack, tried to give as much as he received from this.

It wasn't fair that Jack had to have the one night stands to feel like he was with the Doctor. It wasn't fair that the Doctor had to become celibate when he wanted to be in the arms of the man he was with now. It wasn't fucking fair. As he clung to Jack, he wanted to destroy the universe, to tear it apart so he could stay here, with him, and never go.

He moved faster with Jack, and the stimulation shot through him as they sped up together. His body craved this, craved him for so long.

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Good, good Jack said internally. Noises like that, things like that, they were what Jack wanted to hear. Him enjoying himself, him being where he wanted to be and Jack knowing it.

He started to push faster, a little harder with his thrusts upwards smacking against him. He joined his hand back to the Doctor's skin, wrapped around him, squeezing and stroking with his thumb moving ever constantly over the head.

Leaning his head forward he let out a loud moan, his whole body was singing with the pleasure of it, and he pushed that feeling back to the Doctor.

He let out a long gasp. He wouldn't last long, but he thought he'd be able to hold out. Thought that, but his body shuddered and shook, and before he could stop himself he was crying out with orgasm. He couldn't hold back, and it was embarrassing. But it was him, and how could he not? How could his usual rules ever apply?

He let out a gasp and tried to steady his breath. "I'm sorry," he whispered sheepishly.

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"Don't be," the Doctor replied, honestly. He looked down at Jack's face, feeling the bliss he felt from his orgasm, and it was enough. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Jack's mouth, gentle and loving.

This was what he wanted, but he didn't want it to just be tonight. He wanted it forever. If only he could. If only the universe would give him the things he longed for. The one thing he longed for.

He moved again, pressing his head to Jack's chest and holding him. Feeling his heart beat and his warm body against him and just being with him.

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Jack could feel the blush in his cheeks. It wasn't like him to fall over the edge so soon like that. He was usually so good at control.

But the Doctor was there, and he wasn't disappointed in him, and so he smiled, just a little, and returned the kiss softly and warmly.

It felt so good to be with him, and Jack wrapped an arm tightly around him, holding him close.

"I wish you'd tell me," he said quietly. "Why you're so scared of being with me. I wish you would." It was just typical for them though, wasn't it? Finally finding something they both want, both need. Something and someone that made them happy, but being torn away from it. Jack felt, in that moment, that he'd never felt the Doctor's emotions so sure.

Funny, considering what he'd thought. How he though he hadn't wanted him.

And he already suspected he knew the answer, but he had to ask, "Will you stay tonight? Just tonight?"

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"Only if you make me breakfast in the morning," he replied with a smile. It was wrong, to stay the night, he knew it. It was wrong to stay this long, and he knew it. But he wanted one night with him. If he woke up before Jack did (and with the amount of alcohol he had to process, that wasn't a sure fact), he'd probably leave. But if he didn't, well, maybe one real goodbye would be better than the cruel one he left him with before.

He couldn't lie to Jack, not while they were connected like this, so he let the emotions go to him, the honesty of them. He didn't want to leave, but he had to. He didn't want to be without Jack, but he had to. And if the threat went away, one day he'd come back.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's arms were wrapped tightly about the Doctor, and he wondered if he'd even be able to let him go. He realised then, perhaps more than anything, he wanted that, just to hold him, to hold him tight and be with him and know that he was there in his arms. Really, it was such a small desire when it came to it. Not a lot to want, to be held and to hold.

But for it to be him? It seemed that it was asking the world.

He could feel the emotions and the truth in them, and he understood. It wasn't right of him to ask more of him, he thought, but he couldn't not.

"If you wake up and want to go," he said gently, "wake me first. Just to say goodbye." He needed that. Needed that something.

But that he would stay? Even one night, right or wrong. That mattered.

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He wanted to lie. When he spoke, he wanted to know it was a lie and be comfortable in it, but the way they were connected prevented that. So, he told the truth, because it was all they had between them now. Love, desire, and the truth that the connection brought.

"I will."

He closed his eyes, listening to Jack's heart, and felt himself start to fall asleep, his body tired and his mind a whirring buzz.

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"Good," he said, resting his head forward against the Doctor's. He turned and pressed his lips against his shoulder before repeating, "Good."

Gently, he tapped the Doctor's side to gesture him down into the comfort of the bed.

"Come on," he said softly, "lets lie down." Lie down and he would hold him. That, he thought, would be good.

One last thing though, one problem that sat in his mind, and he had to know the answer. But he couldn't even question it aloud.

Doctor... Will you regret this tomorrow?

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He did as Jack instructed, taking the position to lie on Jack's chest, to be the vulnerable one as he slept. He wrapped an arm around Jack and closed his eyes, almost willing sleep to come before he had to think about waking up.

He didn't respond to the question, though the Doctor was pretty sure that was an answer in itself. Leaving this time would be a million times harder than it had been the last time, and the last time almost destroyed him.

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Jack shifted and wrapped an arm tightly around the Doctor, closer, pulling him near. He leaned in and pressed a kiss softly against the Doctor's forehead.

And there was no response. Jack knew what that meant. He knew.

He closed his eyes tightly and breathed out a shuddering breath.

"I know," he said, though he was answering nothing that had been said. And he did, he knew. He knew how painful it was now and how painful it would be. Oh it would be painful. And Jack? Jack didn't know if he could do it.

"Do you think we can?" he asked quietly.

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They didn't have a choice, did they?

The Doctor wouldn't let what he knew destroy Jack, beautiful Jack, his Jack, but he also couldn't think about leaving, think about giving this up. His mind was too sober, his ability to recognize his own consequences began to come back to him.

He'd spent another few years in the vortex, he figured. Spend some more quality time with the TARDIS, eventually go back and pick up Majenta. She wouldn't even realize time had passed for him at all. And he would...survive it. It was all they could do.

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There was always a choice.

Or at least Jack wanted to think that. They couldn't be bound by other peoples rules, or by rules Jack didn't even understand. He wished he understood. But the Doctor's mind was a complete block there, a blank space that Jack felt was almost tangible in the way that it kept something from him. And Jack couldn't push into that, he just couldn't.

So he breathed out a long breath and made a block in his own mind. He knew what he had to do. Horrible horrible as it was. But he couldn't let the Doctor live with more regret, and he wasn't sure he could live with it himself, knowing that the Doctor was out there, saddened by their encounter.

And so he pressed another kiss to his forehead and whispered.

"Warm in here. Just going to get a glass of water."

And he carefully detached himself from him and slipped out of the bed.

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The Doctor nodded and let Jack go. He didn't want to think about the morning. He didn't want to think about what had to be. He just wanted to think about what was right then and how happy they could be like this, together.

And he was just drunk enough to believe that it could be enough.

He closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

This was not what Jack wanted to do. It was about the very last thing Jack wanted to do. So much so that his steps from the bedroom to the kitchen seemed to hurt. His feet were heavy and his footfalls sore.

He walked to the kitchen and stood in front of a cabinet, his head ducked. He didn't look as he opened it and reached in, taking out a small, rarely used, container.

He might not have lived as Jack Harkness for the last 50 years, but he didn't lose everything. There were still precautions, and still a small container full of small white pills. Just a short one, that's all it would need. A short one for the night, make it cloud and disappear in both of their minds. Fade away that moment together.

And he didn't want to do it.

But, right now, he was Jack Harkness, and Jack Harkness had to do many things he didn't want to.

In his mind he could still feel the Doctor. He was asleep, Jack could tell, but he was there. He wished that would stay. It felt better that way, the two of them. But he had to ignore it now. Ignore it as he selected the right sort of pills. Closing his hand around them, he moved back to the bedroom.

When he got there, he just watched him. He looked at the Doctor and felt numb. Could he do this? Should he do this? Was it fair on either of them? But could either of them cope with the knowledge? He didn't know.

And so he slid back onto the bed and up against the Doctor, moving down to him and over, and he touched his cheek.

"Hey," he whispered, and kissed him just gently. "Open your eyes."

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The Doctor grumbled as he heard Jack, somewhere through the haze of banana liquor and sex that kept him in a very happy state of unconsiousness. A happy state that would no doubt lead to a very unhappy hangover in the morning.

He waved his hand up.

"Sleeping, go away," he mumbled.