Fic: Thinking Of You
Title: Thinking of You
Rating: NC-17 for fantasies of a sexual nature, and errr...self love.
Characters/Pairing: Jack, Nine, Rose, mentioned Sergeyev. Implied Jack/Sergeyev, vague Jack/TARDIS (lol, not as weird as it sounds)
Spoilers: The Doctor Who novel 'The Deviant Strain'. If you haven't read this book, there's an overview of the plot here if you're interested.
Disclaimer: Not mine blah blah.
Note: This is entirely for the lovely velvetfascism. The idea was hers and I just had to write it.
Word Count: 1,560
Summary: Jack remembers Sergeyev.
Thinking Of You
Later, after The Doctor and Rose had finally given up walking on eggshells around him and retreated to their own beds, Jack retreated to his private space aboard the TARDIS. He leaned back on the door, which throbbed slightly beneath him amplified by his heightened senses. Rose couldn’t feel it, or if she did she gave no sign that she did.
Exhale. He’d helped save the world today.
Inhale. So much loss; so much wasted life. Jack knew he’d be haunted by Valeria’s glazed eyes (seeing but not seeing) for a long time. Perhaps even the rest of his life? A terrible reminder of his failure. Jack held the air in his lungs as long as he could, and then exhaled with a deep sigh. They may have saved the world, but it wasn’t enough. Would it ever be enough?
Sergeyev. Jack had, unknown to the Doctor and Rose, visited Levin before they said their goodbyes, to make sure that Sergeyev’s body was recovered. He’d explained that Sergeyev had died a hero, but Levin had barely blinked an eyelid. Jack supposed that Levin was hardened to it by now, losing people, even though he didn’t understand it. Jack would never get used to losing people, every time it was like a shot to the heart.
He ached for poor Valeria. She may have kept her life, but she was trapped in a kind of living death. The Doctor had assured him that any life was better than none, but Jack wasn’t so sure. He’d rather die than simply exist in limbo, not feeling. But when Valeria had held him out there in the snow, he’d been sure he’d felt something. There had to be something there, a light flashing in the dark. Then she’d released him and his heart had sunk to see the glazed over look return to her eyes. Sometimes he despised hope.
Jack tensed, resting his palms flat on the door behind him. He closed his eyes and let the energy of the TARDIS flow through him. His fingertips tingled and he gave his body over to sensation.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about Sergeyev, as much as he tried not to. He was so fucking young; he’d barely started to live at all before giving his life to save Jack and Valeria. Jack felt the guilt start to flow through his veins, cold and nauseating. He ached to visit Sergeyev’s past, warn him not to join the army, and perhaps throw that punch he’d been dreaming about ever since Sergeyev had mocked Jack’s concern for Valeria. Goddamn paradoxes.
Scenarios and could-have-beens rushed through Jack’s mind then and he welcomed them like a long lost lover, letting them stay, making them comfortable. Sure, most of the time they’d known each other, Jack had wanted to swing for Sergeyev, but there’d been something just below the surface that could have blossomed if things had been different.
A fight, blood and bruises and messed up hair. Sergeyev with a split lip - Jack could see him; smell the metallic bitterness of the blood - and Jack with a black eye, adrenaline coursing through their veins. Jack would be unable to focus on anything but the shock of scarlet on the soldier’s lip, until he just had to lean in and taste it for himself. It’d be hot and metallic in Sergeyev’s mouth, and Jack would share the taste of the blood with its owner, tongues twisted around each other lazily. And of course, Sergeyev would be a fairly inexperienced kisser, but he’d more than make up for it in raw enthusiasm.
Much to his shame, Jack suddenly realised that he was hard - harder than he’d been in a long time. He palmed the sensitive flesh, causing him to shudder and groan despite the layers of clothing. In an instant, he had his flies open and was gasping at the sensation of air against his dick. Against his back, the TARDIS hummed, as if gently assuring Jack that what he was going to do next wasn’t completely perverted and depraved. His face flushed at the first touch of his own hand on his cock, from the shameful pleasure of the act. It vaguely occurred to him that he shouldn’t think about a dead man in this way, but he needed some release soon. He was dizzy with the need, suffocating in a fog of lust and he groaned wantonly as he stroked himself.
They’d wrestle for a few moments, each trying to assert their dominance, before Jack managed to gain the upper hand. Sergeyev’s cock would spark in Jack’s hand like a stick of dynamite. It’d be unbearably tight and hot as Jack pushed inside, and he’d have to take several deep breaths to keep control of the urge to just fuck the younger man as hard as he wanted. He’d grasp hold of Sergeyev’s cock as he fucked him, and whisper in his ear, coaxing the orgasm out of him. Sergeyev would look amazing when Jack fucked him, coming apart under Jack’s fingers and cock. His head would be thrown back and his face would be positively debauched. Sergeyev would chant Jack’s name as he came, just barely audible above their grunts and gasps but this would wrench Jack’s own climax from him. Only afterwards would they realise they were covered in little scratches and bruises, and they wouldn’t care.
Jack was close, but the guilt held him back slightly. This man had laid down his life for Jack and Valeria. He knew that he shouldn’t be making Sergeyev the object of his fantasies - but it felt too good to stop. He was close to the precipice; adrenaline rushing through his veins like the best kind of drug.
Jack would let Sergeyev take control for their second round, to be fair. Jack hadn’t let anyone have this control over him for a long while and Sergeyev was definitely the person he could trust with it. He’d cry out when Sergeyev first penetrated him and the younger man would run a soothing hand over Jack’s quivering back. Sergeyev would wonder why Jack was so much more nervous than himself, but he wouldn’t say anything. Just press comforting kisses over Jack’s neck and shoulders as he set up a rhythm. There’d be more passion this time, because they’d have the time. Sergeyev would thrust inside him, deeper than Jack remembered anyone else being, and Jack would come with a yell. Sergeyev would follow soon after, with a grunt into Jack’s shoulder, before they collapsed in a mess of limbs, sweat and come.
Jack came, intensely, with a strangled yelp. As soon as the pleasure washed over him, he lost the ability to stand and slithered to the floor, back still against the door. The tears crept up on him, and all he could do was hold his head in his hands as he shook through them. If the Doctor and Rose knew what he’d just done, they’d be completely disgusted. He was completely disgusted.
All he could see now was Sergeyev’s emotionless expression as he’d told Jack that he expected to die, then the little smile he’d given Jack as he’d joked about it. Jack hadn’t given it much thought at the time, what with escaping the submarine and all, but now it was all he could think about. Sergeyev hadn’t given a second thought about dying, and the thought that a life could be given so easily to save his own overwhelmed Jack.
He wished desperately that he could have made Sergeyev’s life worth living, about more than just the army and sacrifice. He wished that he’d kissed the soldier while he had the chance, even though he’d most likely have received a punch in the face in return. Above all, Jack wished that he’d had the chance to thank Sergeyev, for saving his life more than once.
“Thank you,” Jack whispered into his hands as the TARDIS gently rocked him to sleep. His dreams were filled with a brave young Russian soldier who’d barely lived, having the kind of adventures that Jack was having with the Doctor and Rose.
***
The next morning, the Doctor took Jack aside while Rose was busy burning the toast (again) and gave him a brotherly pat on the shoulder.
“He gave his life for you, didn’t he?” the Doctor asked him, quietly so Rose wouldn’t overhear. But she was too busy shouting at the toaster (“Why can’t we have a normal toaster? One that doesn’t tell me to bugger off every time I try to use it!”).
Jack didn’t say anything, just averted the Doctor’s eyes. The Doctor believed that Jack had changed since they’d met, and the last thing Jack wanted was to disappoint him. The Doctor had saved Jack’s life, after all. Without him, Jack would still be a bitter conman, watching his own life fly by in his desire for vengeance.
“Ah,” said the Doctor. “I know that you think you didn’t deserve to be saved, but trust me when I say that you do.” The next thing Jack knew, he was being pulled into a friendly hug. Rose looked over at them, confused but grinning and Jack thanked Sergeyev again.
They saved the world, and most of the time it just wasn’t enough, but they managed - because they had to.
End.
Note: I'm not sure about the scene at the end, I added it on a bit of a whim because it didn't feel right to leave it with Jack alone.
Rating: NC-17 for fantasies of a sexual nature, and errr...self love.
Characters/Pairing: Jack, Nine, Rose, mentioned Sergeyev. Implied Jack/Sergeyev, vague Jack/TARDIS (lol, not as weird as it sounds)
Spoilers: The Doctor Who novel 'The Deviant Strain'. If you haven't read this book, there's an overview of the plot here if you're interested.
Disclaimer: Not mine blah blah.
Note: This is entirely for the lovely velvetfascism. The idea was hers and I just had to write it.
Word Count: 1,560
Summary: Jack remembers Sergeyev.
Thinking Of You
Later, after The Doctor and Rose had finally given up walking on eggshells around him and retreated to their own beds, Jack retreated to his private space aboard the TARDIS. He leaned back on the door, which throbbed slightly beneath him amplified by his heightened senses. Rose couldn’t feel it, or if she did she gave no sign that she did.
Exhale. He’d helped save the world today.
Inhale. So much loss; so much wasted life. Jack knew he’d be haunted by Valeria’s glazed eyes (seeing but not seeing) for a long time. Perhaps even the rest of his life? A terrible reminder of his failure. Jack held the air in his lungs as long as he could, and then exhaled with a deep sigh. They may have saved the world, but it wasn’t enough. Would it ever be enough?
Sergeyev. Jack had, unknown to the Doctor and Rose, visited Levin before they said their goodbyes, to make sure that Sergeyev’s body was recovered. He’d explained that Sergeyev had died a hero, but Levin had barely blinked an eyelid. Jack supposed that Levin was hardened to it by now, losing people, even though he didn’t understand it. Jack would never get used to losing people, every time it was like a shot to the heart.
He ached for poor Valeria. She may have kept her life, but she was trapped in a kind of living death. The Doctor had assured him that any life was better than none, but Jack wasn’t so sure. He’d rather die than simply exist in limbo, not feeling. But when Valeria had held him out there in the snow, he’d been sure he’d felt something. There had to be something there, a light flashing in the dark. Then she’d released him and his heart had sunk to see the glazed over look return to her eyes. Sometimes he despised hope.
Jack tensed, resting his palms flat on the door behind him. He closed his eyes and let the energy of the TARDIS flow through him. His fingertips tingled and he gave his body over to sensation.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about Sergeyev, as much as he tried not to. He was so fucking young; he’d barely started to live at all before giving his life to save Jack and Valeria. Jack felt the guilt start to flow through his veins, cold and nauseating. He ached to visit Sergeyev’s past, warn him not to join the army, and perhaps throw that punch he’d been dreaming about ever since Sergeyev had mocked Jack’s concern for Valeria. Goddamn paradoxes.
Scenarios and could-have-beens rushed through Jack’s mind then and he welcomed them like a long lost lover, letting them stay, making them comfortable. Sure, most of the time they’d known each other, Jack had wanted to swing for Sergeyev, but there’d been something just below the surface that could have blossomed if things had been different.
A fight, blood and bruises and messed up hair. Sergeyev with a split lip - Jack could see him; smell the metallic bitterness of the blood - and Jack with a black eye, adrenaline coursing through their veins. Jack would be unable to focus on anything but the shock of scarlet on the soldier’s lip, until he just had to lean in and taste it for himself. It’d be hot and metallic in Sergeyev’s mouth, and Jack would share the taste of the blood with its owner, tongues twisted around each other lazily. And of course, Sergeyev would be a fairly inexperienced kisser, but he’d more than make up for it in raw enthusiasm.
Much to his shame, Jack suddenly realised that he was hard - harder than he’d been in a long time. He palmed the sensitive flesh, causing him to shudder and groan despite the layers of clothing. In an instant, he had his flies open and was gasping at the sensation of air against his dick. Against his back, the TARDIS hummed, as if gently assuring Jack that what he was going to do next wasn’t completely perverted and depraved. His face flushed at the first touch of his own hand on his cock, from the shameful pleasure of the act. It vaguely occurred to him that he shouldn’t think about a dead man in this way, but he needed some release soon. He was dizzy with the need, suffocating in a fog of lust and he groaned wantonly as he stroked himself.
They’d wrestle for a few moments, each trying to assert their dominance, before Jack managed to gain the upper hand. Sergeyev’s cock would spark in Jack’s hand like a stick of dynamite. It’d be unbearably tight and hot as Jack pushed inside, and he’d have to take several deep breaths to keep control of the urge to just fuck the younger man as hard as he wanted. He’d grasp hold of Sergeyev’s cock as he fucked him, and whisper in his ear, coaxing the orgasm out of him. Sergeyev would look amazing when Jack fucked him, coming apart under Jack’s fingers and cock. His head would be thrown back and his face would be positively debauched. Sergeyev would chant Jack’s name as he came, just barely audible above their grunts and gasps but this would wrench Jack’s own climax from him. Only afterwards would they realise they were covered in little scratches and bruises, and they wouldn’t care.
Jack was close, but the guilt held him back slightly. This man had laid down his life for Jack and Valeria. He knew that he shouldn’t be making Sergeyev the object of his fantasies - but it felt too good to stop. He was close to the precipice; adrenaline rushing through his veins like the best kind of drug.
Jack would let Sergeyev take control for their second round, to be fair. Jack hadn’t let anyone have this control over him for a long while and Sergeyev was definitely the person he could trust with it. He’d cry out when Sergeyev first penetrated him and the younger man would run a soothing hand over Jack’s quivering back. Sergeyev would wonder why Jack was so much more nervous than himself, but he wouldn’t say anything. Just press comforting kisses over Jack’s neck and shoulders as he set up a rhythm. There’d be more passion this time, because they’d have the time. Sergeyev would thrust inside him, deeper than Jack remembered anyone else being, and Jack would come with a yell. Sergeyev would follow soon after, with a grunt into Jack’s shoulder, before they collapsed in a mess of limbs, sweat and come.
Jack came, intensely, with a strangled yelp. As soon as the pleasure washed over him, he lost the ability to stand and slithered to the floor, back still against the door. The tears crept up on him, and all he could do was hold his head in his hands as he shook through them. If the Doctor and Rose knew what he’d just done, they’d be completely disgusted. He was completely disgusted.
All he could see now was Sergeyev’s emotionless expression as he’d told Jack that he expected to die, then the little smile he’d given Jack as he’d joked about it. Jack hadn’t given it much thought at the time, what with escaping the submarine and all, but now it was all he could think about. Sergeyev hadn’t given a second thought about dying, and the thought that a life could be given so easily to save his own overwhelmed Jack.
He wished desperately that he could have made Sergeyev’s life worth living, about more than just the army and sacrifice. He wished that he’d kissed the soldier while he had the chance, even though he’d most likely have received a punch in the face in return. Above all, Jack wished that he’d had the chance to thank Sergeyev, for saving his life more than once.
“Thank you,” Jack whispered into his hands as the TARDIS gently rocked him to sleep. His dreams were filled with a brave young Russian soldier who’d barely lived, having the kind of adventures that Jack was having with the Doctor and Rose.
***
The next morning, the Doctor took Jack aside while Rose was busy burning the toast (again) and gave him a brotherly pat on the shoulder.
“He gave his life for you, didn’t he?” the Doctor asked him, quietly so Rose wouldn’t overhear. But she was too busy shouting at the toaster (“Why can’t we have a normal toaster? One that doesn’t tell me to bugger off every time I try to use it!”).
Jack didn’t say anything, just averted the Doctor’s eyes. The Doctor believed that Jack had changed since they’d met, and the last thing Jack wanted was to disappoint him. The Doctor had saved Jack’s life, after all. Without him, Jack would still be a bitter conman, watching his own life fly by in his desire for vengeance.
“Ah,” said the Doctor. “I know that you think you didn’t deserve to be saved, but trust me when I say that you do.” The next thing Jack knew, he was being pulled into a friendly hug. Rose looked over at them, confused but grinning and Jack thanked Sergeyev again.
They saved the world, and most of the time it just wasn’t enough, but they managed - because they had to.
End.
Note: I'm not sure about the scene at the end, I added it on a bit of a whim because it didn't feel right to leave it with Jack alone.