vail-kagami: Like Walking Through a Labyrinth (Jack/Ten) [NC-17]
Title: Like Walking Through a Labyrinth
Author: vail_kagami
Challenge: Amnesty/Darkness
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warnings: PWP
Summary: Jack and the Doctor have sex, and all is well.
Dealing with the Doctor, Jack has found, is more often than not like walking through a labyrinth. Blindfolded. And all the light bulbs are broken.
It is his strong moral code that makes things difficult, but also his arrogance and sense of self-righteousness. The Time Lord wants to do good and he expects others to do good, but always on his terms. There is little acceptance of other ways. Sometimes (Jack knows this all too well) a person has to be killed for another to be saved. Sometimes many lives have to be risked in order to save a planet. But the Doctor never sees reason when it comes to that, condemns such a decision unless he makes it himself. So little faith in the judgment of others, or perhaps he simply is masochistic and unwilling to share the guilt.
It doesn’t help that his paradigms seem to change in every context. An action approved of the last time they met might cause anger and disappointment the next. With every change of the situation the rules are rewritten, and Jack has never figured out the underlying map. He’s still stumbling blindly through the darkness, bumping into things, bruising his shins and getting a bloody nose.
Sex with the Doctor is no different. There are few rules that never change. One is that the Doctor will never initiate it. It’s always up to Jack. When he wants to sleep with his Time Lord he’ll have to ask for it, or beg for it, or simply take it, and there is only one right way to go at any time. If Jack chooses the wrong one, the Doctor pushes him away, or leaves, or just snorts and keeps on reading his book and Jack is left frustrated and horny for the rest of the day.
Sometimes Jack is completely in control, sometimes he can only do what the Doctor allows him to, when he is allowed to. He never knows where his lover’s moods are leading him, always feeling his way through the dark. When it comes to sex, the Doctor is always giving, never taking, but he’s the one holding all the cards.
Jack’s head falls back and he groans loudly, bucking his hips. The fingers on his cock are stroking softly - feathery touches, just teasing. He feels the Doctor’s breath on his exposed skin as his lips hover a hair’s breadth from the head of his painfully hard penis.
He expects those lips to close around it, but instead all he gets is a soft kiss, before that amazing, skilled tongue slowly licks its way down his shaft and teases the skin of his balls. Jack moans and writhes, his fingers first clenched into the sheets and then into the Doctor’s hair. He doesn’t hold back any of his reactions, lets them run wild instead, for it’s encouraging the Doctor, makes him work harder and faster. Today it does.
Not long and Jack is thrusting shallowly into that eager mouth while teeth graze his skin ever so slightly in all the right places. He can feel his orgasm building, is almost there as moist lips run up and down his cock and -
stop.
Jack’s wriggling stops. He barely dares to breathe while the Doctor holds himself above him, completely still. His hands tremble in the other’s hair. His eyes are closed. It’s dark and he doesn’t know where to go.
Then the tip of a tongue is pressed to the base of his cock, moves left and right for no more than a fraction. Jack’s moan is almost a scream, and the spell is broken. Still he does not come. It’s something the Doctor does, when he feels like it - holding out Jack’s orgasm as long as he pleases.
This is torture, and Jack relishes every second of it. There is nothing on his mind. Nothing at all besides pleasure, excitement, frustration and love.
He bears it seconds and hours before he pushes the Doctor away, flips him over, is upon him to press him down, into the sheets and the pillows. His heart is racing. This could end badly, with anger, annoyance or indifference, all leading ultimately away from sexual satisfaction. This is like playing with fire. He feels like he’s going to explode.
Beneath him the Doctor looks up, large brown eyes full of surprise, weariness and hidden amusement. Jack kisses him forcefully, in a clashing of teeth and tongues. Regaining an illusion of control he never had.
“I want to be inside you,” he growls, demands, biting his lover’s throat. “I want to come inside you!” His hands find thin wrists and hold them down, slender hands that can push him off without effort. A rush of adrenaline surges through him, as if in battle. Will the Doctor run away now? If so, will he want to be stopped? Will he become genuinely uncomfortable, scared as he sometimes does when Jack pushes too far? Jack’s breaths are hard and fast, trying to keep up with his pulse as he runs through the darkness, at any moment expecting to hit a wall.
The Doctor chuckles softly, and Jack feels him move. Parting his legs for the man who pretends he can own him.
“Then come.”
December 2, 2008
Author: vail_kagami
Challenge: Amnesty/Darkness
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warnings: PWP
Summary: Jack and the Doctor have sex, and all is well.
Dealing with the Doctor, Jack has found, is more often than not like walking through a labyrinth. Blindfolded. And all the light bulbs are broken.
It is his strong moral code that makes things difficult, but also his arrogance and sense of self-righteousness. The Time Lord wants to do good and he expects others to do good, but always on his terms. There is little acceptance of other ways. Sometimes (Jack knows this all too well) a person has to be killed for another to be saved. Sometimes many lives have to be risked in order to save a planet. But the Doctor never sees reason when it comes to that, condemns such a decision unless he makes it himself. So little faith in the judgment of others, or perhaps he simply is masochistic and unwilling to share the guilt.
It doesn’t help that his paradigms seem to change in every context. An action approved of the last time they met might cause anger and disappointment the next. With every change of the situation the rules are rewritten, and Jack has never figured out the underlying map. He’s still stumbling blindly through the darkness, bumping into things, bruising his shins and getting a bloody nose.
Sex with the Doctor is no different. There are few rules that never change. One is that the Doctor will never initiate it. It’s always up to Jack. When he wants to sleep with his Time Lord he’ll have to ask for it, or beg for it, or simply take it, and there is only one right way to go at any time. If Jack chooses the wrong one, the Doctor pushes him away, or leaves, or just snorts and keeps on reading his book and Jack is left frustrated and horny for the rest of the day.
Sometimes Jack is completely in control, sometimes he can only do what the Doctor allows him to, when he is allowed to. He never knows where his lover’s moods are leading him, always feeling his way through the dark. When it comes to sex, the Doctor is always giving, never taking, but he’s the one holding all the cards.
Jack’s head falls back and he groans loudly, bucking his hips. The fingers on his cock are stroking softly - feathery touches, just teasing. He feels the Doctor’s breath on his exposed skin as his lips hover a hair’s breadth from the head of his painfully hard penis.
He expects those lips to close around it, but instead all he gets is a soft kiss, before that amazing, skilled tongue slowly licks its way down his shaft and teases the skin of his balls. Jack moans and writhes, his fingers first clenched into the sheets and then into the Doctor’s hair. He doesn’t hold back any of his reactions, lets them run wild instead, for it’s encouraging the Doctor, makes him work harder and faster. Today it does.
Not long and Jack is thrusting shallowly into that eager mouth while teeth graze his skin ever so slightly in all the right places. He can feel his orgasm building, is almost there as moist lips run up and down his cock and -
stop.
Jack’s wriggling stops. He barely dares to breathe while the Doctor holds himself above him, completely still. His hands tremble in the other’s hair. His eyes are closed. It’s dark and he doesn’t know where to go.
Then the tip of a tongue is pressed to the base of his cock, moves left and right for no more than a fraction. Jack’s moan is almost a scream, and the spell is broken. Still he does not come. It’s something the Doctor does, when he feels like it - holding out Jack’s orgasm as long as he pleases.
This is torture, and Jack relishes every second of it. There is nothing on his mind. Nothing at all besides pleasure, excitement, frustration and love.
He bears it seconds and hours before he pushes the Doctor away, flips him over, is upon him to press him down, into the sheets and the pillows. His heart is racing. This could end badly, with anger, annoyance or indifference, all leading ultimately away from sexual satisfaction. This is like playing with fire. He feels like he’s going to explode.
Beneath him the Doctor looks up, large brown eyes full of surprise, weariness and hidden amusement. Jack kisses him forcefully, in a clashing of teeth and tongues. Regaining an illusion of control he never had.
“I want to be inside you,” he growls, demands, biting his lover’s throat. “I want to come inside you!” His hands find thin wrists and hold them down, slender hands that can push him off without effort. A rush of adrenaline surges through him, as if in battle. Will the Doctor run away now? If so, will he want to be stopped? Will he become genuinely uncomfortable, scared as he sometimes does when Jack pushes too far? Jack’s breaths are hard and fast, trying to keep up with his pulse as he runs through the darkness, at any moment expecting to hit a wall.
The Doctor chuckles softly, and Jack feels him move. Parting his legs for the man who pretends he can own him.
“Then come.”
December 2, 2008