A/N : Set in the days of the Time-Agency. Jack and John know who each other are, but this is the first time they've spoken to each other. I work on the pretence that they were given the Christian names of Jack and John when they joined the Agency, and they always have these names , but the surnames and titles change with each mission. (It makes it much easier to write these types of stories)
Prompted by the song 'Fever' by Adam Lambert.
Strong language and sexual content. Slash.
There he goes my baby, walk so slow
Sexual tic-tac-toe, yeah I know we both know
It isn't time, no but could you be mine
We'll never get too far, just you me and the bar
Silly manage a trois, sometime would you be mine'
John had his hand on the woman's tit, his thumb grazing across a barely concealed nipple as she rocked in his lap. The moment he saw Jack enter the bar, John pushed her off. She squealed as she landed haphazardly on the bench next to him.
He watched as Jack slowly crossed the room. His movements were so deliberate, it was as if he were playing some well thought out game. And catching the look Jack flashed him as he turned to face the bar, John knew that's exactly what it was. For weeks, since Jack had first shown up at the Agency, they'd been avoiding each other, but he knew it was all bullshit. They wanted the same thing, but neither of them was willing to give in and make the first move.
John wondered how many of the rumours were true. The word was that the "Face of Boe" had fucked up royally, so the Brass had moved him back here to keep a tighter rein on him. 'Hard to control,' was what John had heard. He smiled as Jack stopped next to the striking redhead at the bar. If there was a quicker way to end up in the med-bay, he didn't know what it was. "Oh Jack," he murmured, as he watched him lead the woman to a darkened booth in the back.
John inclined his head, a smile lifting one corner of his mouth, as Jack glanced back over his shoulder at him.
"I'm still here you know," complained the woman who sat next to him.
John turned to face her and smiled. "Sorry," he soothed. "I got...distracted..." He kissed the girl with a tenderness he didn't feel, then pulled back running a finger down her cheek. "Why don't you go get us a drink?" He watched the swing of her arse as she made her way to the bar, then he turned his attentions back to Jack. He noticed the subtle movements, and it didn't take much imagination to guess what was going on under the table.
The redhead smiled as Jack whispered something in her ear. John was surprised when Jack's eyes came up to meet his, even as he ran his tongue across the woman's lobe. John felt his cock respond when Jack lifted his hand to his mouth to lick along his fingers, then move it back under the table.
"Agent..."
Startled, John looked up at the loud voice. Oh shit!
"I'm looking for Deirdre," said the Academy Drill Sergeant. "Have you seen her?"
"Ah..." He was about to say no, when he thought better of it. "Yeah, I have actually. She left about ten minutes ago."
"You're welcome," John said under his breath, as the Sergeant turned and walked away without so much as a 'thanks'.
John waited until the Sergeant had moved out of sight before he got up and made his way towards Jack's booth, making sure he stayed out of sight of Jill as she returned to their now empty table with the drinks. Or was it Jane? Or Jen? Oh who gives a fuck, he thought as he ducked behind a pole on his way across the floor.
When he got to the table he stood there a moment, neither of them seeming to notice him. John saw that Jack's trousers were pulled down past his hips, his skin standing out white in the shadowy surrounds. His eyes fell on Jack's rigid cock, Deirdre's small hand barely able to close around it. John swallowed, clearing his throat
Jack looked up, his hand still in motion under the girls skirt. "Now? Really?" he asked, his tone making it clear that he thought John could've picked a better time.
"Don't flatter yourself," John drawled, turning his attention to the woman. "Your husband's looking for you," he said, feeling somewhat gratified by the sight of her eyes popping open.
"Bill's here?" she asked, her voice coming out in ragged gasps, her hips bucking up to meet Jack's hand.
"He was," John replied, trying hard to ignore how tight his trousers were getting. "I told him that you'd left, but I reckon he'll be back."
"I have to go," she all but moaned to Jack.
"Do you?" Jack asked, his voice low, as he continued to finger her.
John stifled his own moan at the sound of that voice.
Deirdre only managed to nod weakly, as Jack thrust up into her hand. "You sure about that?" he tried again, the self-assured tone slipping.
John heard the woman whimper, as she clearly made up her mind that she really did have to go. She turned and planted a quick kiss on Jack's mouth as she pushed his hand away, smoothing her skirt back down. "Thanks," she said quietly to John as she passed him, and headed off across the club.
