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wintercompanion2014-04-09 05:18 pm
trobadora) wrote in wintercompanion2014-04-09 05:18 pm
Entry tags:
GIFT FOR DONNAIMMACULATA: A vignette from the 2nd hour of Dark (Jack/Ten) [NC-17]
Title: A vignette from the 2nd hour of Dark on an unnamed station orbiting a dead zone planet.
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
arnica
Recipient:donnaimmaculata
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Jack Harkness/Tenth Doctor
Spoilers/warnings: fetishistic self-harm, depression, knifeplay, mild drug use
Summary: Jack doesn't ask to go and the Doctor doesn't offer.
**
He crawls across the bed to the man perched on the edge, plucking at the top coat the other still has wrapped around thin shoulders. The Doctor lets him slide it down stiff arms, jerking himself free before Jack can wrap his hands around the Time Lord's wrist. Long fingers drum against the carved glass bottle and Jack doesn't bother resenting that he has to ask for it every time. Resentment would be a sign that maybe he's starting to feel something again. Jack presses against the Doctor's back, nuzzling at the uncomfortably hot skin there.
“Just give it to me.” The liquid is thicker than water but not quite as thick as honey. He thinks the word 'Soma' every time the molasses and numbing clove sweetness of it coats his throat, but he doesn't remember what 'Soma' is, or even where he heard the word.
Probably on Earth. It sounds like an Earth kind of word. The liquid makes his body flush and the jagged edges of self loathing that threaten to shred the numbness inside him melt away. It makes his skin flush, blood rushing to pound insistently in his cock. Jack crawls into the Doctor's lap, picking up the Doctor's hands and pressing them to the tops of Jack's thighs.
The knife is in the same place it always is and Jack plucks it off the nearby shelf, sliding the tip between his lips. The point of the blade presses against the curve of his lip and then with a sigh and a flick of his wrist the skin under his blade slips apart. The blood begins to fizz with vortex light as soon as the first red drop swells upwards.
The Time Lord follows the crimson drop with his eyes as it curves down Jack's lip and trails down to his chin and Jack knows already the red of his blood must be covered in a golden shimmer. He's healing, and the light trapped inside him is the lure that brings the Time Lord back here to this place he doesn't recognize. The drink, just poisonous enough to set his body to work purging itself tricks his brain into reading the buzz of his cells healing as pleasure.
They do this little dance too often now, but it feels good and that's all Jack wants right now. To feel good. He doesn't have to take the hand on his thigh and move it to his lap this time. The Doctor already has the palm of his hand resting on Jack's half-half cock. It gives him something to writhe against as he takes the same blade and scores a thin bloody line from his own shoulder to his wrist.
Some days the Doctor holds them perfectly still in just this position and watches Jack get himself off using nothing more than the sting of the blade and the power of the vortex sparking through them. Some days they get off ashamed with half a foot between them, but this is not some days.
The Doctor lunges for him, teeth and tongue meeting in a clash where the immortal man lets himself surrender at once. The movement of the vortex through Jack gets the Doctor off now, maybe it always has, damned if he knows. Fucked if he cares. Jack lets himself be tumbled back on the bed and watches the way the long body at the foot of the bed trembles during stripping with every drag of the blade across Jack's flesh. A dozen little cuts up and down his torso heal faster than they can bleed while the Doctor tries to kick out of his pinstripe suit. Undressed it's easy to see the way the way the alien's cock pulses with every frisson of vortex light that slips out of him. The sharp edge slips across ribs and biceps, leaving Jack squirming as it's paired with the sharp white edge of teeth teasing his nipples.
It's easy not to think when everything feels as good as working your cock deep in the hot ridged throat of someone who has an oxygen bypass. It's right to lose yourself in the deep rocking motion of fingers working him open fast and rough. It's impossible to think when a blade can fill you full of light that feels even better than that.
He fucks the Time Lord the same way every time, spread wide open on the Doctor's lap caught between the blade in his own hands and the body sprawled under him holding him in place with firm hands. The cock inside him plows away fast and hard across his prostate, driving broken breathy sounds out of him. It's rough, jostling him back and forth, and Jack let's the razor sharp blade rest against his skin cutting shallow or deep as he's fucked. It's the closest the other man will come to holding the blade.
He slashes once, long and shallow at the foggy white border of cumming and drags the man inside him along for the ride as the vortex light tumbles through both of them like someone but after burners on his orgasm.
“You never ask me to take you with me.” He shakes, glassy eyed and light headed from blood loss, delirious with the pleasure of it all, only half hearing the man under him. Their skin is trying to stick together with blood and cum as the Doctor works them apart gently. Jack sighs, shifting his weight off his healing left arm.
“You never offer.” He shrugs, staring up at the ceiling. He can still feel a low background glow trapped inside him and thinks he can probably go one more time before the neuro-toxin wears off. “I don't feel like it. We're both too damaged. I don't care. I don't know.” He flops over, nipping at the thin skin of the Time Lord's throat where the double pulse is fluttering.
“Do you...” He's getting annoyed now and Jack hates it because if he can feel annoyed he can feel other things. The bed creaks as he throws himself over, arm dangling off the bed. So much for another tumble. It's fine, nothing he can't handle himself.
“No.”
Author:
arnicaRecipient:
donnaimmaculataRating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Jack Harkness/Tenth Doctor
Spoilers/warnings: fetishistic self-harm, depression, knifeplay, mild drug use
Summary: Jack doesn't ask to go and the Doctor doesn't offer.
**
He crawls across the bed to the man perched on the edge, plucking at the top coat the other still has wrapped around thin shoulders. The Doctor lets him slide it down stiff arms, jerking himself free before Jack can wrap his hands around the Time Lord's wrist. Long fingers drum against the carved glass bottle and Jack doesn't bother resenting that he has to ask for it every time. Resentment would be a sign that maybe he's starting to feel something again. Jack presses against the Doctor's back, nuzzling at the uncomfortably hot skin there.
“Just give it to me.” The liquid is thicker than water but not quite as thick as honey. He thinks the word 'Soma' every time the molasses and numbing clove sweetness of it coats his throat, but he doesn't remember what 'Soma' is, or even where he heard the word.
Probably on Earth. It sounds like an Earth kind of word. The liquid makes his body flush and the jagged edges of self loathing that threaten to shred the numbness inside him melt away. It makes his skin flush, blood rushing to pound insistently in his cock. Jack crawls into the Doctor's lap, picking up the Doctor's hands and pressing them to the tops of Jack's thighs.
The knife is in the same place it always is and Jack plucks it off the nearby shelf, sliding the tip between his lips. The point of the blade presses against the curve of his lip and then with a sigh and a flick of his wrist the skin under his blade slips apart. The blood begins to fizz with vortex light as soon as the first red drop swells upwards.
The Time Lord follows the crimson drop with his eyes as it curves down Jack's lip and trails down to his chin and Jack knows already the red of his blood must be covered in a golden shimmer. He's healing, and the light trapped inside him is the lure that brings the Time Lord back here to this place he doesn't recognize. The drink, just poisonous enough to set his body to work purging itself tricks his brain into reading the buzz of his cells healing as pleasure.
They do this little dance too often now, but it feels good and that's all Jack wants right now. To feel good. He doesn't have to take the hand on his thigh and move it to his lap this time. The Doctor already has the palm of his hand resting on Jack's half-half cock. It gives him something to writhe against as he takes the same blade and scores a thin bloody line from his own shoulder to his wrist.
Some days the Doctor holds them perfectly still in just this position and watches Jack get himself off using nothing more than the sting of the blade and the power of the vortex sparking through them. Some days they get off ashamed with half a foot between them, but this is not some days.
The Doctor lunges for him, teeth and tongue meeting in a clash where the immortal man lets himself surrender at once. The movement of the vortex through Jack gets the Doctor off now, maybe it always has, damned if he knows. Fucked if he cares. Jack lets himself be tumbled back on the bed and watches the way the long body at the foot of the bed trembles during stripping with every drag of the blade across Jack's flesh. A dozen little cuts up and down his torso heal faster than they can bleed while the Doctor tries to kick out of his pinstripe suit. Undressed it's easy to see the way the way the alien's cock pulses with every frisson of vortex light that slips out of him. The sharp edge slips across ribs and biceps, leaving Jack squirming as it's paired with the sharp white edge of teeth teasing his nipples.
It's easy not to think when everything feels as good as working your cock deep in the hot ridged throat of someone who has an oxygen bypass. It's right to lose yourself in the deep rocking motion of fingers working him open fast and rough. It's impossible to think when a blade can fill you full of light that feels even better than that.
He fucks the Time Lord the same way every time, spread wide open on the Doctor's lap caught between the blade in his own hands and the body sprawled under him holding him in place with firm hands. The cock inside him plows away fast and hard across his prostate, driving broken breathy sounds out of him. It's rough, jostling him back and forth, and Jack let's the razor sharp blade rest against his skin cutting shallow or deep as he's fucked. It's the closest the other man will come to holding the blade.
He slashes once, long and shallow at the foggy white border of cumming and drags the man inside him along for the ride as the vortex light tumbles through both of them like someone but after burners on his orgasm.
“You never ask me to take you with me.” He shakes, glassy eyed and light headed from blood loss, delirious with the pleasure of it all, only half hearing the man under him. Their skin is trying to stick together with blood and cum as the Doctor works them apart gently. Jack sighs, shifting his weight off his healing left arm.
“You never offer.” He shrugs, staring up at the ceiling. He can still feel a low background glow trapped inside him and thinks he can probably go one more time before the neuro-toxin wears off. “I don't feel like it. We're both too damaged. I don't care. I don't know.” He flops over, nipping at the thin skin of the Time Lord's throat where the double pulse is fluttering.
“Do you...” He's getting annoyed now and Jack hates it because if he can feel annoyed he can feel other things. The bed creaks as he throws himself over, arm dangling off the bed. So much for another tumble. It's fine, nothing he can't handle himself.
“No.”
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This is a more damaged Jack than in most fics, more damaged Doctor too.