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fannishlisstitle: Breathe and Be
author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fannishliss
pairing: Nine/Rose/Jack
rating: NC17
warnings: threesome! light submissive play, speculation about Jack's omnisexuality :)
length: 4550
Summary: Jack calls the Doctor on his refusal to acknowledge Rose's love, and offers to help.
I'd like to thankjessicaqueen for the inspiration. :) Crossposted to time and chips as well as better with three. :D
===
"You're seriously never gonna take her up on it?" Jack said.
Rose had straggled off to her quarters, for a shower and some much needed rest, leaving the Doctor puttering at the console, and Jack looking on wonderingly with something perilously close to disgust.
The Doctor bristled at Jack's tone. The Fifty-first Century boy had mores very different from Rose's and pretty much polar opposites to the ones the Doctor had had drilled into him on Gallifrey — but he hadn't earned the right to speak to the Doctor in that way.
"What I do is my own business," he said coldly, giving Jack the full brunt of his stare.
But Jack wouldn't back down.
"Now see — that's where you're wrong," he insisted. "It's her business too, and she's my friend, so that makes it my business."
The Doctor bit back the nasty things on the tip of his tongue. Jack hadn't gone so far as to merit them spilling out. Really, Gallifrey had been horribly backward and the Fifty-first Century rather beautifully enlightened by contrast, but that didn't affect the Doctor's attitude toward his own feelings, namely: best buried, deep as he could keep them.
Seeing that he wasn't going to respond, Jack went on.
"So you wouldn't mind then," Jack said, "if I took her up on it, myself?"
He couldn't stop his head snapping up, his eyes shooting daggers.
"Oh, you know you would," Jack snarled. "You'd mind so much you'd eat your heart out. Oh no, but you won't let her have the least little bit of happiness, comfort, pleasure in the arms of a friend."
The Doctor heard what very well might have been a growl coming out of his throat, and tried to stifle it.
"If you know what's good for you..." he gritted out.
"I do," Jack purred. "I know what's good for me, and for Rose, and you too."
The heat in Jack's eyes took the Doctor by surprise. He'd known Jack was casually interested in him— most people were, if he admitted the truth to himself — a Time Lord is a fairly irresistible thing to be. But Jack had traveled with him, and that made him, too, off limits, by the Doctor's strange code: okay to mess around with strangers, not done to get too deeply involved with friends.
"I can't," he said, and that was usually enough.
But not for Jack.
"I'm not buying it," Jack said. "You can, and you ought to. You're just afraid. And if it were just me, fine. I want you, I'll live — but it's Rose that's hurting. You've got a choice to make, and if you don't make it, I'm making it for you."
The Doctor wanted to retort and threaten and basically throw Jack right off his Tardis — but inside, he knew Jack was right. So he smiled, that one particular smile.
"Yeah. Sorry. Course you're right. You do that, take care of Rose. I'll not stop you." He spat it all out in the hopes that Jack would at least go away and stop talking.
Jack did stop talking, but he didn't go away. Instead he got closer, closer, till the Doctor had to look at him, ready to snap.
Eye contact made and held, Jack dropped to his knees and postured. Time (even the Doctor could have sworn) stopped.
Jack's eyes were soft and open, his lips parted. His back was straight as he knelt there, knees apart, groin thrust forward for the Doctor to peruse. His arms were at ease behind him, his right hand gripping his left wrist. He deliberately offered his bare throat, leaning his neck gracefully to one side. He stared up at the Doctor, waiting.
"Jack!" the Doctor exclaimed, shock and arousal forcing his companion's name from his suddenly dry throat.
"Yes, Doctor?" Jack said softly.
"Don't do this," he whispered.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I don't think you really want me to get up," Jack said sweetly, eyes flashing before he breathed deeply, taming himself.
"Get up," the Doctor begged.
Fluidly Jack stood, released his arms, and in one beat of his human heart he was pressed against the Doctor, chest to chest, groin to groin. His right arm snaked around the Doctor's waist under his jumper to find bare skin, and his left hand went to the Doctor's pulse, beating out quadruple in the double arteries of his throat, fingers soothing the Doctor's nape.
"No," the Doctor choked, loud as he could manage.
"Aren't you forgetting I'm a telepath? Your voice says no, but your mind is screaming yes, yes, yes," Jack hissed. Despite his strength, he was molding himself to the Doctor's body, submission to the Doctor's need for dominance written in every line of his form, from his soft, receptive gaze, to the leashed strength he had presented for the Doctor's pleasure.
"I want you," Jack said, and though he'd avoided the Doctor's temple, the power of truth was enough to push his avowal straight and deep into the Doctor's mind.
"Wanting isn't enough," the Doctor panted.
"Isn't love enough?" Jack asked.
"You don't love me!" the Doctor cried, astonished at the other man's nerve.
"I could," Jack offered, "easily — but she certainly does. You know it."
Jack gazed into his eyes, blue into blue. His fingers stroked the Doctor's neck, the small of his back, while his body pressed undemandingly, comfortingly into a body that hardly ever been held.
"Yeah," the Doctor heard himself breathe, almost a holy affirmation.
"Then please," Jack said. "Please. Let me help you act on it."
The Doctor searched his mind, all his careful rationales scattered and flown. In all his lives, he'd never been the man he was now: wounded, lost, desperately alone. And of all his brilliant, beautiful companions, Rose Tyler was the one, the only one he'd fallen in love with.
"Okay," the Doctor admitted.
Again, Jack's eyes flashed with triumph, only for a second.
"Now kiss me, you fool," he said, laughing, and his eager lips and tongue delighted the last of the Time Lords until Jack pulled away, smiling.
"I'm the appetizer, not the main course— come on!"
Jack led the Doctor by the hand out of the console room and down the corridor. It was strange, the Doctor thought, Jack's masculine hand in his own, instead of Rose's. Jack's sexual awareness was highly developed, and his hand, though strong and manly, was carefully submissive in the Doctor's own, almost caressing his as Jack led him to Rose's door.
The Doctor thought the Tardis might lead them a different direction, but to the contrary, she seemed to agree with Jack's plan, delivering them to Rose's room without delay.
Jack rapped lightly on the door. "Rose?" he called.
"Just a second," she answered.
The Doctor had thought she might already be asleep, but as she opened the door, she toweling off her hair. She must've just stepped out of the shower; her feet were still wet under her thick terry cloth robe, her face flushed and fresh.
"Oh! Doctor!" she exclaimed, her eyes dilating at the sight of him, darting to Jack in confusion.
"May we come in?" Jack said silkily.
"Of course," Rose said, there being no other appropriate response to such a polite request. The Doctor marveled at Jack sometimes, he was so smooth. Surely he'd been that way himself, once, some life, before everything had gone to hell.
She led them inside, tossing her towel to the floor of her ensuite bath. There were three chairs around Rose's tea table, and she sat in one, while the Doctor sat in another, but Jack gracefully dropped to his knees in the space between Rose's chair and the Doctor's.
Rose's eyes widened in surprise and she blushed. She looked over at the Doctor, and he saw her take in the heat in his eyes, the high color of his own face. And he saw her notice Jack's kiss-swollen lips, then dart to his own.
"Doctor?" she said, hesitating, her brows drawing together.
"Rose, dear," Jack whispered, turning to her, reaching for her hands. Instinctively she gave them to him. "Darling," he murmured, "don't be afraid. I know you love him. He loves you too. Let me help."
"Why?" Rose asked, blushing deeply. But she didn't deny, and she didn't turn away, and her eyes repeatedly darted to the Doctor's for confirmation, so there was that.
"Because it's beautiful!" Jack smiled, his handsome face radiant. "Holy stars, did it really take three millennia for humans to lighten up?" he laughed. He indicated the Doctor with his chin. "And don't even get me started on Time Lords," he said, rolling his eyes.
Thus having thoroughly put the Doctor on guard, Jack then reached for his hand. With Rose looking at him so hopefully, he couldn't refuse, and he soon found his hand warming again in Jack's confident grasp.
"Look at him, Rose," Jack murmured. The Doctor was mortified to be put under such scrutiny by Jack, but for Rose's sake, he thought he could just about bear it. "You've wondered if he wants you— he does. Go to him — make it easy on him?"
"Are you sure?" she asked doubtfully, but Jack just smiled. '
"Ask him," he said.
She blinked, nervously, wetting her lips. "Do you, Doctor — do you want me?"
The Doctor looked into her beautiful brown eyes and he couldn't believe he'd made her unsure. "More than anything," he said, his voice as rough as if he hadn't spoken in centuries.
Jack linked their hands together, shutting his eyes. "You can feel it, I know you can — the love coursing between you. So, so beautiful," he said. Looking at the Doctor, he chided gently, "Come on, man — pull her to you!"
The loving touch of their hands was so sweetly familiar that the Doctor hardly noticed he had pulled before Rose was standing, crossing to him, seating herself in his lap. Her terry cloth robe was damp and the Doctor blushed at the thought of her heat just underneath. Jack turned, still kneeling, leaning toward them over the arm of the chair.
"How do you feel, Rose? How does he make you feel?" he asked, smiling softly.
"Oh, I'm so happy I could explode! I never dreamed...!" she sighed. She leaned her head on the Doctor's shoulder as he held her close, kissing her forehead tenderly.
"And you, Doctor?" Jack asked.
"I'm so afraid," he whispered. Rose pulled back slightly to look up at him in concern, their hands still linked.
"Afraid she'll see inside you — who you really are? what you've done?" Jack said gently.
The Doctor nodded. Rose shook her head, frowning.
"Tell him, Rose," Jack prompted.
"Doctor, you blew up a building five minutes after we met, so I already know you're dangerous. And I know what you did, to save the universe. You had to be so strong, to save us, and I love you for it."
"Ah, Rose," the Doctor answered.
"Don't you want to kiss her?" Jack murmured. "Look at her. Isn't she the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?"
"Oh, absolutely," the Doctor said, as Rose blushed. He touched her lips with delicate fingers.
"You know how to kiss," Jack said, prompting him.
"Yeah, but this is different," the Doctor explained. "Kissing, it's just two mouths touching, a ritual of proximity. But if I kiss Rose, I'll never stop, wanting that luscious mouth under my own, wanting her in my arms, wanting her inside my head — and I've got no right!"
Rose just stared at the Doctor, mesmerized by the feel of his fingers lightly touching her lips.
Jack laid gentle hands on each of their shoulders. "Doctor," he said, "you're tormenting her."
"What?" the Doctor said, and Rose startled, frowning, but Jack hushed them both.
"Breathe and be," Jack whispered, the golden rule from a time when humanity regarded sexuality as their highest art form and deepest communion. "You're not just punishing yourself," he continued. "You're punishing her — denying her the happiness she longs for at your side. She's right there, in your arms, waiting for you, wanting you — but she can't open you up. Only you can do that. Every second you waste condemning yourself, arguing with yourself, is a moment she feels slipping by."
The Doctor frowned. It was hard for him to understand the human blindness to the infinite nature of a moment, but he had to accept that Jack was speaking his true thoughts.
"Honestly?" Rose breathed, "it's not all bad." The Doctor could feel the heat building in Rose, her heart racing, like there was danger. He himself was the danger and she was running toward him with love in her eyes.
Jack smiled. "Tell him."
Rose shivered as Jack encouraged her to speak. Desire was a funny thing, the Doctor thought — he'd buried it, ignored it, feared it — and here was Rose, luxuriating in her desire like a cat arching toward an attentive hand. The Doctor wanted to dive into her darkening eyes and never come back up.
"It's like," she breathed, licking her lips, "it's almost like I can feel him, the way he wants me, like a touch almost, and my whole body catches on fire, aching for that touch, and it burns, oh it burns, but it's so sweet too, innit?"
"Very sweet," Jack said, and his voice was like velvet, his hand hot on the Doctor's shoulder, his whole body drinking in the immanent passion of the lovers he'd arranged like a living tableau before him.
"Won't you kiss her, Doctor?" Jack entreated, and the Doctor could see in his blush, in the sparkle of his eye, how much Jack longed to feel their connection through his hands and before his eyes.
"You're a voyeur, and you're pushy," the Doctor snapped, and Jack grinned, showing his perfect teeth, as the complaint unlocked the last line of the Doctor's resistance.
It was as if he fell toward Rose, as if he could see her from a long way off.
"Doctor!" she breathed, and then the heat of her lips was searing him, her tongue delicately questing out to taste him, licking into his mouth like a flame, and forget the world, the whole universe was spinning, spinning out of control, and he was suddenly very grateful for Jack's grounding hand on his shoulder.
"Easy, tiger," Jack said, moving his hand to stroke the Doctor's neck. "Breathe," he said, and the Doctor took his advice, panting a little.
Rose was frowning slightly.
"What is it, love?" the Doctor asked.
Her eyes brightened like song at his careless word, and he smiled, feeling strangely shy.
"I think I felt you, like, with my mind?" she hazarded.
He nodded, grateful again when Jack spoke for him. "What did it feel like, Rose?" he prompted.
"He was there, but waiting, like outside a door?" Rose said.
"That's right, Rose," Jack said. "It's not just his body that wants you — it's his mind, locked up in there, too long alone. We need to help set him free, so that he can fly to you."
"Is it," Rose hesitated, looking up at the Doctor. "Is it safe?" she asked.
"Yes and no," the Doctor said. "Safe for you, yeah. Our minds won't blend or flow together or anything, so there's no danger of my mind overloading yours. But me, if I open this doorway — I'll be lost without you Rose, ever seeking you, hopelessly incomplete without you."
"Well, that's okay then," she said, "because I'm never leaving you."
The Doctor felt the ferocity of her determination. If anyone could manage to live alongside a Time Lord, it was this fiery woman.
"What do you say, Doctor?" Jack asked. "Is she worth it?"
"Oh, yeah," the Doctor said, and just as he'd promised, he couldn't resist her beckoning lips, diving for them again, feeling his mind take flight toward hers.
He lost himself a while, kissing her, brushing against the contours of her mind with his own, letting himself get in tune with her. The murmur of her thoughts was subsumed by her passionate emotions, like a cloud of pink and gold. Her love for him was exhilarating; it was like drifting through a sunrise, brilliance and warmth and softness shot through with rays of dazzling splendor.
"Doctor?" Jack said softly.
"Hm?" he said, feeling almost intoxicated.
"She wants you to take her to bed," Jack said.
"Now," Rose gasped, catching her breath.
"Oh!" he said. That, he'd never done.
"And lose the clothes," Jack said.
Rose sat up, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. Her face was entrancing, flushed with passion, eyes sparkling, love shining through the bared teeth of her wolfish, mischievous grin. As he shed the leather, she made up for his vulnerability with her hot little hands smoothing over the wool of his jumper.
Jack stood again and gently pulled Rose away, helping her to her feet. Standing behind her, he said over her shoulder, "This will give you an incentive." Then he undid the ties of her robe.
Emboldened, she slipped the robe from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
She was just a young woman, fit and well-made, not so different from a million others, but the love in her soul shone out, glowing resplendent before the Doctor's eyes. Nothing in creation could have kept him back from her.
He sprang up, and in a moment, his clothes were gone, and he was pressed full-length against her. Jack delivered her into his arms.
"Is this okay, Rose?" Jack asked, melting against her back.
"Nah," she said. "Still too many clothes — right, Doctor?"
The Doctor looked into Jack's eyes. The open offer of friendship, the generosity he saw there, made up his mind. If it was all right with Rose, then it must be for the best. He nodded.
"Thank you," Jack said, his heart in his voice. "I need you both to know— this is worship for me. The two of you — you're the face of the Divine."
Rose had no words, but the Doctor did. "Without you, I might never have gotten here."
He reached up with one hand, and over Rose's shoulder, guided Jack in for a kiss.
Jack practically drank him in, but his hands were on Rose, stroking her sides, keeping her in the center of their connection.
Somehow, they made it to Rose's bed, Jack's clothes shed along the way. Luckily the Tardis had given Rose a large bed — she must've seen from the beginning the spark between the human and her Time Lord.
They laid Rose down between them and she laughed, a little nervous and very excited.
Jack lay on his left arm, propped up a little, and the Doctor mirrored his pose.
"In case you're wondering, Rose, it seems Gallifreyan men have internalized genitalia," Jack murmured.
"I had wondered," Rose muttered, blushing.
"Don't worry," the Doctor said, "it won't stay hidden away for long."
"If you don't mind, Doctor, gather her to you a little more, your arm under her head," Jack suggested.
The Doctor was amazed how Jack's deferential tone kept his hackles down. He felt completely in control, despite the fact that Jack was essentially telling him what to do. He followed Jack's instructions, pulling Rose back against his body, cradling her head on his upper arm.
She sighed, smiling. She slipped her left hand onto the Doctor's hip, stroking the smooth skin.
"She likes feeling you hold her, the security of it, and at the same time, her front is open to you, completely surrendered to your touch," Jack said softly.
"Mm, yeah," Rose murmured, relaxing back into the Doctor.
Jack gathered up the Doctor's free hand and guided it to Rose's throat, wrapping the long fingers around. She relaxed further, baring her throat to his touch.
"Mmm," Jack moaned, appreciatively. "Latent submissive. Beautiful, Rose. Good girl."
The Doctor felt the shiver that ran through her at Jack's words of praise. "So precious," he whispered in her ear, "so good." She gasped, a tremor shaking her at his words. Her pulse jumped and ran like a scampering tafelshrew under his hand.
"Lovely," Jack breathed. "May I?" he asked the Doctor, who nodded.
Jack moved closer, breathing across Rose's lips, which parted. A small whimper escaped her.
"So responsive," he said. "You've never been worshipped properly, darling. Are you in for a treat," he rumbled.
Jack guided the Doctor's hand to Rose's breast. "This feels so good to her, our hands claiming her body in the name of pleasure."
"Ohh, yes," Rose moaned.
"You don't have to speak, darling," Jack said, "unless you want to. I know it feels amazing."
"Ohhh," she moaned again, as Jack lowered his mouth to suckle at one nipple, then the other. He guided the Doctor's hands to her nipples.
"Feel that," Jack said. "So much pleasure, so much excitement from the simplest touch," he said, pinching the nipple until Rose squirmed in pleasure. The Doctor could feel everything Rose was feeling through the tips of his fingers, but he could also see how Jack's words amplified Rose's sensations in her mind.
"Perfect," he whispered in Rose's ear. "Flawless," he said, encompassing her breast in his hand and stroking the nipple.
"Oh! oh Doctor!" she cried out, shuddering.
"This is going well," Jack murmured. "Okay, beautiful — may I ask him if we can both touch you?"
"Ah! ah, yes," Rose cried.
"May I?" Jack asked.
"You already are," the Doctor said, distracted by the nerves in Rose's nipple rioting between his finger and thumb.
"Her sex, Doctor. Can't you feel how hungry she is for your touch?"
"Oh god, oh god," Rose chanted, almost delirious with desire.
The Doctor had lost his composure, which surprised him a little. Usually his giant brain could efficiently process an impressive barrage of stimuli — but this was different. Every one of Rose's reactions was infinitely fascinating, drawing him in almost to the subatomic level and then back again, her little whimpers, her pulsations, her heat, and above all, the swirling cloud of pleasure and love emanating from her mind, so near to his.
If he concentrated he could indeed sense a desire for his touch to her sex coming off of her in desperate waves — but it was just one part of an intoxicating aura of want and intense response crashing through the Doctor. There was so much that was good, he had no basis for prioritizing.
He gave up, surrendering his hand to Jack, who guided it slowly, sensuously down across her belly to her sex.
"Oh, Rose," Jack moaned, and his hips made a tiny thrust against her side. "Feel how hot you are for us, how wet and eager. You are delightful, woman!"
Rose was moaning constantly now, her mind a storm of passion that the Doctor could barely decipher, so many colors and brilliances swirling that he was almost afraid to let it cascade around him. He could feel Jack's excitement too, not as strongly as Rose's, but he knew Jack was intensely aroused, and once again gratitude surged through him for the guidance Jack was so skilled in offering.
"Oh, Doctor," Jack said, "feel!" He intertwined his fingers through the Doctor's and together they explored Rose's sex. The lips were soft and hot, protecting the opening which fluttered around their touch. A hooded nub of nerves was the focus of Rose's pleasure, and whenever his fingers slid across it, slick with her moisture, his brain got a jolt of pure pleasure, and Rose groaned and thrust her hips, seeking more of their touch.
"Keep stroking her there, Doctor — lightly — Rose, open up for him, there's a good girl."
Jack lowered his mouth again to Rose's breast, suckling, and Rose's legs fell open, undone by the Doctor's delicate touch.
He felt his own body waking up in a way it hadn't in lifetimes.
"My sex, Rose — it wants you," he whispered.
"Doctor! ah, oh god!" Rose shouted, and her body arched up, straining for his touch.
Jack stroked her face, "Sh, sh, Rose, breathe and be. He'll soon be inside you, darling, won't that be lovely?"
"Oh Jack, oh god, I want, I want!" Rose shouted, but she tried to breathe.
"Breathe, Rose, deep and low," Jack said, drawing the Doctor's hand away.
"Are you ready for her?" Jack asked.
"Yes," he said, and he eased his arm out from under her, positioning himself over her body. He could feel his sex swelling inside him, ready to emerge from his body and slip inside her. All he needed was one last touch.
"Rose," he called.
"Yes," she said, panting, opening eyes dazed with passion, staring up into his.
"Come to me," he begged, and lowering his forehead to hers, he invited her in.
Slowly at first, and then like a waterfall, he could feel as she poured herself into him, spinning, wondrous, an endless ocean of love and light cascading into the darkest parts of his mind. He'd never dared to dream it could be like this.
He felt the long forgotten part of himself entering her body, secret and sublime, swelling as it sought to bring her pleasure. He gave himself over to instinct, thrusting into her, reveling in her cries as she met him stroke for stroke.
Jack was still touching them, caressing the Doctor's back with one hand and holding one of Rose's with the other, murmuring endearments, his eyes tightly closed, seemingly riding the psychic waves of their passion.
Rose had crested and was shuddering beneath him, shouting her pleasure on every breath.
"Let go, Doctor — we've got you!" Jack whispered.
And so he let go and fell into an ocean of bliss, surrendering all of himself to the depths of Rose's love, and it seemed an eternity before he surfaced.
Rose had caught her breath and was smiling up at him by the time he opened his eyes.
"We owe Jack a favor," she whispered.
"Only if it pleases you, Doctor," Jack said, his eyes averted. His organ was straining toward his belly, flushed a deep crimson and weeping.
Now it was Rose's hand that led the Doctor's. Together, they wrapped their hands around Jack, and with smooth, deep strokes they brought him off onto Rose's belly.
He groaned and stretched, and then with a brilliant smile, crawled down to lick her clean.
The Doctor's organ had retreated back inside him, but he felt it give an eager twitch at the sight of Jack's tongue so near Rose's sex. The redolence of her passion filled the air around him, musky and exotic to the Time Lord. He longed to know what she would taste like, and Jack must've caught the thought, peering up at him with a wicked gleam in his eye.
"Ready for round two? You gorgeous man, you're on fire!" Jack grinned, pulling the Doctor down for a kiss, and then leading him south, to Rose's intense delight.
author:
fannishlisspairing: Nine/Rose/Jack
rating: NC17
warnings: threesome! light submissive play, speculation about Jack's omnisexuality :)
length: 4550
Summary: Jack calls the Doctor on his refusal to acknowledge Rose's love, and offers to help.
I'd like to thank
jessicaqueen for the inspiration. :) Crossposted to time and chips as well as better with three. :D===
"You're seriously never gonna take her up on it?" Jack said.
Rose had straggled off to her quarters, for a shower and some much needed rest, leaving the Doctor puttering at the console, and Jack looking on wonderingly with something perilously close to disgust.
The Doctor bristled at Jack's tone. The Fifty-first Century boy had mores very different from Rose's and pretty much polar opposites to the ones the Doctor had had drilled into him on Gallifrey — but he hadn't earned the right to speak to the Doctor in that way.
"What I do is my own business," he said coldly, giving Jack the full brunt of his stare.
But Jack wouldn't back down.
"Now see — that's where you're wrong," he insisted. "It's her business too, and she's my friend, so that makes it my business."
The Doctor bit back the nasty things on the tip of his tongue. Jack hadn't gone so far as to merit them spilling out. Really, Gallifrey had been horribly backward and the Fifty-first Century rather beautifully enlightened by contrast, but that didn't affect the Doctor's attitude toward his own feelings, namely: best buried, deep as he could keep them.
Seeing that he wasn't going to respond, Jack went on.
"So you wouldn't mind then," Jack said, "if I took her up on it, myself?"
He couldn't stop his head snapping up, his eyes shooting daggers.
"Oh, you know you would," Jack snarled. "You'd mind so much you'd eat your heart out. Oh no, but you won't let her have the least little bit of happiness, comfort, pleasure in the arms of a friend."
The Doctor heard what very well might have been a growl coming out of his throat, and tried to stifle it.
"If you know what's good for you..." he gritted out.
"I do," Jack purred. "I know what's good for me, and for Rose, and you too."
The heat in Jack's eyes took the Doctor by surprise. He'd known Jack was casually interested in him— most people were, if he admitted the truth to himself — a Time Lord is a fairly irresistible thing to be. But Jack had traveled with him, and that made him, too, off limits, by the Doctor's strange code: okay to mess around with strangers, not done to get too deeply involved with friends.
"I can't," he said, and that was usually enough.
But not for Jack.
"I'm not buying it," Jack said. "You can, and you ought to. You're just afraid. And if it were just me, fine. I want you, I'll live — but it's Rose that's hurting. You've got a choice to make, and if you don't make it, I'm making it for you."
The Doctor wanted to retort and threaten and basically throw Jack right off his Tardis — but inside, he knew Jack was right. So he smiled, that one particular smile.
"Yeah. Sorry. Course you're right. You do that, take care of Rose. I'll not stop you." He spat it all out in the hopes that Jack would at least go away and stop talking.
Jack did stop talking, but he didn't go away. Instead he got closer, closer, till the Doctor had to look at him, ready to snap.
Eye contact made and held, Jack dropped to his knees and postured. Time (even the Doctor could have sworn) stopped.
Jack's eyes were soft and open, his lips parted. His back was straight as he knelt there, knees apart, groin thrust forward for the Doctor to peruse. His arms were at ease behind him, his right hand gripping his left wrist. He deliberately offered his bare throat, leaning his neck gracefully to one side. He stared up at the Doctor, waiting.
"Jack!" the Doctor exclaimed, shock and arousal forcing his companion's name from his suddenly dry throat.
"Yes, Doctor?" Jack said softly.
"Don't do this," he whispered.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I don't think you really want me to get up," Jack said sweetly, eyes flashing before he breathed deeply, taming himself.
"Get up," the Doctor begged.
Fluidly Jack stood, released his arms, and in one beat of his human heart he was pressed against the Doctor, chest to chest, groin to groin. His right arm snaked around the Doctor's waist under his jumper to find bare skin, and his left hand went to the Doctor's pulse, beating out quadruple in the double arteries of his throat, fingers soothing the Doctor's nape.
"No," the Doctor choked, loud as he could manage.
"Aren't you forgetting I'm a telepath? Your voice says no, but your mind is screaming yes, yes, yes," Jack hissed. Despite his strength, he was molding himself to the Doctor's body, submission to the Doctor's need for dominance written in every line of his form, from his soft, receptive gaze, to the leashed strength he had presented for the Doctor's pleasure.
"I want you," Jack said, and though he'd avoided the Doctor's temple, the power of truth was enough to push his avowal straight and deep into the Doctor's mind.
"Wanting isn't enough," the Doctor panted.
"Isn't love enough?" Jack asked.
"You don't love me!" the Doctor cried, astonished at the other man's nerve.
"I could," Jack offered, "easily — but she certainly does. You know it."
Jack gazed into his eyes, blue into blue. His fingers stroked the Doctor's neck, the small of his back, while his body pressed undemandingly, comfortingly into a body that hardly ever been held.
"Yeah," the Doctor heard himself breathe, almost a holy affirmation.
"Then please," Jack said. "Please. Let me help you act on it."
The Doctor searched his mind, all his careful rationales scattered and flown. In all his lives, he'd never been the man he was now: wounded, lost, desperately alone. And of all his brilliant, beautiful companions, Rose Tyler was the one, the only one he'd fallen in love with.
"Okay," the Doctor admitted.
Again, Jack's eyes flashed with triumph, only for a second.
"Now kiss me, you fool," he said, laughing, and his eager lips and tongue delighted the last of the Time Lords until Jack pulled away, smiling.
"I'm the appetizer, not the main course— come on!"
Jack led the Doctor by the hand out of the console room and down the corridor. It was strange, the Doctor thought, Jack's masculine hand in his own, instead of Rose's. Jack's sexual awareness was highly developed, and his hand, though strong and manly, was carefully submissive in the Doctor's own, almost caressing his as Jack led him to Rose's door.
The Doctor thought the Tardis might lead them a different direction, but to the contrary, she seemed to agree with Jack's plan, delivering them to Rose's room without delay.
Jack rapped lightly on the door. "Rose?" he called.
"Just a second," she answered.
The Doctor had thought she might already be asleep, but as she opened the door, she toweling off her hair. She must've just stepped out of the shower; her feet were still wet under her thick terry cloth robe, her face flushed and fresh.
"Oh! Doctor!" she exclaimed, her eyes dilating at the sight of him, darting to Jack in confusion.
"May we come in?" Jack said silkily.
"Of course," Rose said, there being no other appropriate response to such a polite request. The Doctor marveled at Jack sometimes, he was so smooth. Surely he'd been that way himself, once, some life, before everything had gone to hell.
She led them inside, tossing her towel to the floor of her ensuite bath. There were three chairs around Rose's tea table, and she sat in one, while the Doctor sat in another, but Jack gracefully dropped to his knees in the space between Rose's chair and the Doctor's.
Rose's eyes widened in surprise and she blushed. She looked over at the Doctor, and he saw her take in the heat in his eyes, the high color of his own face. And he saw her notice Jack's kiss-swollen lips, then dart to his own.
"Doctor?" she said, hesitating, her brows drawing together.
"Rose, dear," Jack whispered, turning to her, reaching for her hands. Instinctively she gave them to him. "Darling," he murmured, "don't be afraid. I know you love him. He loves you too. Let me help."
"Why?" Rose asked, blushing deeply. But she didn't deny, and she didn't turn away, and her eyes repeatedly darted to the Doctor's for confirmation, so there was that.
"Because it's beautiful!" Jack smiled, his handsome face radiant. "Holy stars, did it really take three millennia for humans to lighten up?" he laughed. He indicated the Doctor with his chin. "And don't even get me started on Time Lords," he said, rolling his eyes.
Thus having thoroughly put the Doctor on guard, Jack then reached for his hand. With Rose looking at him so hopefully, he couldn't refuse, and he soon found his hand warming again in Jack's confident grasp.
"Look at him, Rose," Jack murmured. The Doctor was mortified to be put under such scrutiny by Jack, but for Rose's sake, he thought he could just about bear it. "You've wondered if he wants you— he does. Go to him — make it easy on him?"
"Are you sure?" she asked doubtfully, but Jack just smiled. '
"Ask him," he said.
She blinked, nervously, wetting her lips. "Do you, Doctor — do you want me?"
The Doctor looked into her beautiful brown eyes and he couldn't believe he'd made her unsure. "More than anything," he said, his voice as rough as if he hadn't spoken in centuries.
Jack linked their hands together, shutting his eyes. "You can feel it, I know you can — the love coursing between you. So, so beautiful," he said. Looking at the Doctor, he chided gently, "Come on, man — pull her to you!"
The loving touch of their hands was so sweetly familiar that the Doctor hardly noticed he had pulled before Rose was standing, crossing to him, seating herself in his lap. Her terry cloth robe was damp and the Doctor blushed at the thought of her heat just underneath. Jack turned, still kneeling, leaning toward them over the arm of the chair.
"How do you feel, Rose? How does he make you feel?" he asked, smiling softly.
"Oh, I'm so happy I could explode! I never dreamed...!" she sighed. She leaned her head on the Doctor's shoulder as he held her close, kissing her forehead tenderly.
"And you, Doctor?" Jack asked.
"I'm so afraid," he whispered. Rose pulled back slightly to look up at him in concern, their hands still linked.
"Afraid she'll see inside you — who you really are? what you've done?" Jack said gently.
The Doctor nodded. Rose shook her head, frowning.
"Tell him, Rose," Jack prompted.
"Doctor, you blew up a building five minutes after we met, so I already know you're dangerous. And I know what you did, to save the universe. You had to be so strong, to save us, and I love you for it."
"Ah, Rose," the Doctor answered.
"Don't you want to kiss her?" Jack murmured. "Look at her. Isn't she the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?"
"Oh, absolutely," the Doctor said, as Rose blushed. He touched her lips with delicate fingers.
"You know how to kiss," Jack said, prompting him.
"Yeah, but this is different," the Doctor explained. "Kissing, it's just two mouths touching, a ritual of proximity. But if I kiss Rose, I'll never stop, wanting that luscious mouth under my own, wanting her in my arms, wanting her inside my head — and I've got no right!"
Rose just stared at the Doctor, mesmerized by the feel of his fingers lightly touching her lips.
Jack laid gentle hands on each of their shoulders. "Doctor," he said, "you're tormenting her."
"What?" the Doctor said, and Rose startled, frowning, but Jack hushed them both.
"Breathe and be," Jack whispered, the golden rule from a time when humanity regarded sexuality as their highest art form and deepest communion. "You're not just punishing yourself," he continued. "You're punishing her — denying her the happiness she longs for at your side. She's right there, in your arms, waiting for you, wanting you — but she can't open you up. Only you can do that. Every second you waste condemning yourself, arguing with yourself, is a moment she feels slipping by."
The Doctor frowned. It was hard for him to understand the human blindness to the infinite nature of a moment, but he had to accept that Jack was speaking his true thoughts.
"Honestly?" Rose breathed, "it's not all bad." The Doctor could feel the heat building in Rose, her heart racing, like there was danger. He himself was the danger and she was running toward him with love in her eyes.
Jack smiled. "Tell him."
Rose shivered as Jack encouraged her to speak. Desire was a funny thing, the Doctor thought — he'd buried it, ignored it, feared it — and here was Rose, luxuriating in her desire like a cat arching toward an attentive hand. The Doctor wanted to dive into her darkening eyes and never come back up.
"It's like," she breathed, licking her lips, "it's almost like I can feel him, the way he wants me, like a touch almost, and my whole body catches on fire, aching for that touch, and it burns, oh it burns, but it's so sweet too, innit?"
"Very sweet," Jack said, and his voice was like velvet, his hand hot on the Doctor's shoulder, his whole body drinking in the immanent passion of the lovers he'd arranged like a living tableau before him.
"Won't you kiss her, Doctor?" Jack entreated, and the Doctor could see in his blush, in the sparkle of his eye, how much Jack longed to feel their connection through his hands and before his eyes.
"You're a voyeur, and you're pushy," the Doctor snapped, and Jack grinned, showing his perfect teeth, as the complaint unlocked the last line of the Doctor's resistance.
It was as if he fell toward Rose, as if he could see her from a long way off.
"Doctor!" she breathed, and then the heat of her lips was searing him, her tongue delicately questing out to taste him, licking into his mouth like a flame, and forget the world, the whole universe was spinning, spinning out of control, and he was suddenly very grateful for Jack's grounding hand on his shoulder.
"Easy, tiger," Jack said, moving his hand to stroke the Doctor's neck. "Breathe," he said, and the Doctor took his advice, panting a little.
Rose was frowning slightly.
"What is it, love?" the Doctor asked.
Her eyes brightened like song at his careless word, and he smiled, feeling strangely shy.
"I think I felt you, like, with my mind?" she hazarded.
He nodded, grateful again when Jack spoke for him. "What did it feel like, Rose?" he prompted.
"He was there, but waiting, like outside a door?" Rose said.
"That's right, Rose," Jack said. "It's not just his body that wants you — it's his mind, locked up in there, too long alone. We need to help set him free, so that he can fly to you."
"Is it," Rose hesitated, looking up at the Doctor. "Is it safe?" she asked.
"Yes and no," the Doctor said. "Safe for you, yeah. Our minds won't blend or flow together or anything, so there's no danger of my mind overloading yours. But me, if I open this doorway — I'll be lost without you Rose, ever seeking you, hopelessly incomplete without you."
"Well, that's okay then," she said, "because I'm never leaving you."
The Doctor felt the ferocity of her determination. If anyone could manage to live alongside a Time Lord, it was this fiery woman.
"What do you say, Doctor?" Jack asked. "Is she worth it?"
"Oh, yeah," the Doctor said, and just as he'd promised, he couldn't resist her beckoning lips, diving for them again, feeling his mind take flight toward hers.
He lost himself a while, kissing her, brushing against the contours of her mind with his own, letting himself get in tune with her. The murmur of her thoughts was subsumed by her passionate emotions, like a cloud of pink and gold. Her love for him was exhilarating; it was like drifting through a sunrise, brilliance and warmth and softness shot through with rays of dazzling splendor.
"Doctor?" Jack said softly.
"Hm?" he said, feeling almost intoxicated.
"She wants you to take her to bed," Jack said.
"Now," Rose gasped, catching her breath.
"Oh!" he said. That, he'd never done.
"And lose the clothes," Jack said.
Rose sat up, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. Her face was entrancing, flushed with passion, eyes sparkling, love shining through the bared teeth of her wolfish, mischievous grin. As he shed the leather, she made up for his vulnerability with her hot little hands smoothing over the wool of his jumper.
Jack stood again and gently pulled Rose away, helping her to her feet. Standing behind her, he said over her shoulder, "This will give you an incentive." Then he undid the ties of her robe.
Emboldened, she slipped the robe from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
She was just a young woman, fit and well-made, not so different from a million others, but the love in her soul shone out, glowing resplendent before the Doctor's eyes. Nothing in creation could have kept him back from her.
He sprang up, and in a moment, his clothes were gone, and he was pressed full-length against her. Jack delivered her into his arms.
"Is this okay, Rose?" Jack asked, melting against her back.
"Nah," she said. "Still too many clothes — right, Doctor?"
The Doctor looked into Jack's eyes. The open offer of friendship, the generosity he saw there, made up his mind. If it was all right with Rose, then it must be for the best. He nodded.
"Thank you," Jack said, his heart in his voice. "I need you both to know— this is worship for me. The two of you — you're the face of the Divine."
Rose had no words, but the Doctor did. "Without you, I might never have gotten here."
He reached up with one hand, and over Rose's shoulder, guided Jack in for a kiss.
Jack practically drank him in, but his hands were on Rose, stroking her sides, keeping her in the center of their connection.
Somehow, they made it to Rose's bed, Jack's clothes shed along the way. Luckily the Tardis had given Rose a large bed — she must've seen from the beginning the spark between the human and her Time Lord.
They laid Rose down between them and she laughed, a little nervous and very excited.
Jack lay on his left arm, propped up a little, and the Doctor mirrored his pose.
"In case you're wondering, Rose, it seems Gallifreyan men have internalized genitalia," Jack murmured.
"I had wondered," Rose muttered, blushing.
"Don't worry," the Doctor said, "it won't stay hidden away for long."
"If you don't mind, Doctor, gather her to you a little more, your arm under her head," Jack suggested.
The Doctor was amazed how Jack's deferential tone kept his hackles down. He felt completely in control, despite the fact that Jack was essentially telling him what to do. He followed Jack's instructions, pulling Rose back against his body, cradling her head on his upper arm.
She sighed, smiling. She slipped her left hand onto the Doctor's hip, stroking the smooth skin.
"She likes feeling you hold her, the security of it, and at the same time, her front is open to you, completely surrendered to your touch," Jack said softly.
"Mm, yeah," Rose murmured, relaxing back into the Doctor.
Jack gathered up the Doctor's free hand and guided it to Rose's throat, wrapping the long fingers around. She relaxed further, baring her throat to his touch.
"Mmm," Jack moaned, appreciatively. "Latent submissive. Beautiful, Rose. Good girl."
The Doctor felt the shiver that ran through her at Jack's words of praise. "So precious," he whispered in her ear, "so good." She gasped, a tremor shaking her at his words. Her pulse jumped and ran like a scampering tafelshrew under his hand.
"Lovely," Jack breathed. "May I?" he asked the Doctor, who nodded.
Jack moved closer, breathing across Rose's lips, which parted. A small whimper escaped her.
"So responsive," he said. "You've never been worshipped properly, darling. Are you in for a treat," he rumbled.
Jack guided the Doctor's hand to Rose's breast. "This feels so good to her, our hands claiming her body in the name of pleasure."
"Ohh, yes," Rose moaned.
"You don't have to speak, darling," Jack said, "unless you want to. I know it feels amazing."
"Ohhh," she moaned again, as Jack lowered his mouth to suckle at one nipple, then the other. He guided the Doctor's hands to her nipples.
"Feel that," Jack said. "So much pleasure, so much excitement from the simplest touch," he said, pinching the nipple until Rose squirmed in pleasure. The Doctor could feel everything Rose was feeling through the tips of his fingers, but he could also see how Jack's words amplified Rose's sensations in her mind.
"Perfect," he whispered in Rose's ear. "Flawless," he said, encompassing her breast in his hand and stroking the nipple.
"Oh! oh Doctor!" she cried out, shuddering.
"This is going well," Jack murmured. "Okay, beautiful — may I ask him if we can both touch you?"
"Ah! ah, yes," Rose cried.
"May I?" Jack asked.
"You already are," the Doctor said, distracted by the nerves in Rose's nipple rioting between his finger and thumb.
"Her sex, Doctor. Can't you feel how hungry she is for your touch?"
"Oh god, oh god," Rose chanted, almost delirious with desire.
The Doctor had lost his composure, which surprised him a little. Usually his giant brain could efficiently process an impressive barrage of stimuli — but this was different. Every one of Rose's reactions was infinitely fascinating, drawing him in almost to the subatomic level and then back again, her little whimpers, her pulsations, her heat, and above all, the swirling cloud of pleasure and love emanating from her mind, so near to his.
If he concentrated he could indeed sense a desire for his touch to her sex coming off of her in desperate waves — but it was just one part of an intoxicating aura of want and intense response crashing through the Doctor. There was so much that was good, he had no basis for prioritizing.
He gave up, surrendering his hand to Jack, who guided it slowly, sensuously down across her belly to her sex.
"Oh, Rose," Jack moaned, and his hips made a tiny thrust against her side. "Feel how hot you are for us, how wet and eager. You are delightful, woman!"
Rose was moaning constantly now, her mind a storm of passion that the Doctor could barely decipher, so many colors and brilliances swirling that he was almost afraid to let it cascade around him. He could feel Jack's excitement too, not as strongly as Rose's, but he knew Jack was intensely aroused, and once again gratitude surged through him for the guidance Jack was so skilled in offering.
"Oh, Doctor," Jack said, "feel!" He intertwined his fingers through the Doctor's and together they explored Rose's sex. The lips were soft and hot, protecting the opening which fluttered around their touch. A hooded nub of nerves was the focus of Rose's pleasure, and whenever his fingers slid across it, slick with her moisture, his brain got a jolt of pure pleasure, and Rose groaned and thrust her hips, seeking more of their touch.
"Keep stroking her there, Doctor — lightly — Rose, open up for him, there's a good girl."
Jack lowered his mouth again to Rose's breast, suckling, and Rose's legs fell open, undone by the Doctor's delicate touch.
He felt his own body waking up in a way it hadn't in lifetimes.
"My sex, Rose — it wants you," he whispered.
"Doctor! ah, oh god!" Rose shouted, and her body arched up, straining for his touch.
Jack stroked her face, "Sh, sh, Rose, breathe and be. He'll soon be inside you, darling, won't that be lovely?"
"Oh Jack, oh god, I want, I want!" Rose shouted, but she tried to breathe.
"Breathe, Rose, deep and low," Jack said, drawing the Doctor's hand away.
"Are you ready for her?" Jack asked.
"Yes," he said, and he eased his arm out from under her, positioning himself over her body. He could feel his sex swelling inside him, ready to emerge from his body and slip inside her. All he needed was one last touch.
"Rose," he called.
"Yes," she said, panting, opening eyes dazed with passion, staring up into his.
"Come to me," he begged, and lowering his forehead to hers, he invited her in.
Slowly at first, and then like a waterfall, he could feel as she poured herself into him, spinning, wondrous, an endless ocean of love and light cascading into the darkest parts of his mind. He'd never dared to dream it could be like this.
He felt the long forgotten part of himself entering her body, secret and sublime, swelling as it sought to bring her pleasure. He gave himself over to instinct, thrusting into her, reveling in her cries as she met him stroke for stroke.
Jack was still touching them, caressing the Doctor's back with one hand and holding one of Rose's with the other, murmuring endearments, his eyes tightly closed, seemingly riding the psychic waves of their passion.
Rose had crested and was shuddering beneath him, shouting her pleasure on every breath.
"Let go, Doctor — we've got you!" Jack whispered.
And so he let go and fell into an ocean of bliss, surrendering all of himself to the depths of Rose's love, and it seemed an eternity before he surfaced.
Rose had caught her breath and was smiling up at him by the time he opened his eyes.
"We owe Jack a favor," she whispered.
"Only if it pleases you, Doctor," Jack said, his eyes averted. His organ was straining toward his belly, flushed a deep crimson and weeping.
Now it was Rose's hand that led the Doctor's. Together, they wrapped their hands around Jack, and with smooth, deep strokes they brought him off onto Rose's belly.
He groaned and stretched, and then with a brilliant smile, crawled down to lick her clean.
The Doctor's organ had retreated back inside him, but he felt it give an eager twitch at the sight of Jack's tongue so near Rose's sex. The redolence of her passion filled the air around him, musky and exotic to the Time Lord. He longed to know what she would taste like, and Jack must've caught the thought, peering up at him with a wicked gleam in his eye.
"Ready for round two? You gorgeous man, you're on fire!" Jack grinned, pulling the Doctor down for a kiss, and then leading him south, to Rose's intense delight.
