Huge Hotels and Small Spaces - NEW AND IMPROVED!
This has had a little editing done, it's slightly better now - also, easier to read.
Please, enjoy! :]
Martha kissed Jack goodbye – on the cheek, she noted. A few more brisk, awkward hugs with the Doctor, and they were on their way. She watched the Tardis leave its parking space and vanish into nothingness, the trees behind it whispering in the breeze of the cold morning.
She picked up her suitcase and dragged it up the road and into her mother's house, where a proper English supper lay in wait.
"So… Martha's on holiday," Jack pointed out.
"Uh-huh," the Doctor replied loudly, dancing around the Tardis control panel. He swirled a clear ball around in its socket, then flipped a few switches, kicking back a lever with his shoe. The Tardis made a huge clunking noise, and then stopped its mechanical moaning, its metal-grate floor shaking itself still.
"So," said Jack.
"So," echoed the Doctor. He looked up over his tortoiseshell glasses, which were balanced precariously on his nose, as he examined a minute detail on the console monitor.
Jack looked straight back at him, the inside of his palms leaning on the edge of the circular panel. "So, Doctor –" he straightened up, removing his navy coat and throwing it to the side, "– What are we going to do?"
"We-ell," the Doctor cocked his head quickly, "…we could always take a holiday, too…?" He looked up hopefully at Jack, as if asking permission. Jack grinned sideways, leaning back on the console as the Doctor stood up and walked around.
Jack turned his body to face him as he moved, his eyes not straying from his face. "And believe it or not –" he skipped to the door; "– I've just landed us in the biggest telepathic hotel in this galaxy! Come on!" he yelled at Jack, already out the door. Jack followed, pulling the Tardis door closed behind him, then turning –
He bumped into the Doctor, nose first. And neither moved. They couldn't. The Doctor was pressed up against a wall; Jack's back flat against the Tardis door. There was no manoeuvre room on either side of them; the Tardis was parked in a closet.
"This is why, Jack – you must always look before leaving the Tardis," the Doctor said, speaking straight into Jack's face. Well, there wasn't much else he could speak to, given their present location.
"You can talk," Jack replied good-naturedly, his hands probing in his front trouser pockets for his Tardis key. "It's… in here… somewhere…" he muttered, feeling deeper into his pocket.
The Doctor mumbled something incoherent. "What'd you say?" Jack asked; his eyes searching the ceiling as his hand searched his pocket.
"I said…" he mumbled, a little red in the face, "could you… not… touch… there."
Jack withdrew his hand immediately, his own face becoming flushed around the cheeks. He cleared his throat embarrassedly. "Sorry."
The Doctor let out a shaky breath, opening his eyes. He swallowed, then reached into his inside jacket pocket and withdrew his own key. He shuffled Jack as much to the left as he could, and shoved the key into the lock, clicking it open. Jack stumbled in backwards, the Doctor following him.
"I think you should take a few lessons in Tardis-parking," Jack suggested.
"I'd like to see you try it!" the Doctor retorted. Then he added, glumly, "…and who would teach me, anyhow…?"
Jack sighed, shaking his head in mock disapproval. The Doctor grinned back at him, before resetting the Tardis controls to land in some place a little more accessible.
Once the floor had stopped shaking (again), Jack and the Doctor left the Tardis, this time looking both ways before stepping outside. They were inside a nice little Tardis-sized alcove, covered in ivy, just around the corner from the main entrance of the building.
It was an unbelievably tall building, the top lost among the yellowish clouds, and it was far too wide for the two of them to see the edges. The sky was a light purple-pink colour, the fluffy clouds catching the light of the setting sun. Red plants lined the mile-long walkway, gravel crunching underfoot as the Doctor and Jack made their way to the front entrance, which towered high up above them. Worn stone steps led the way into a pair of massive revolving doors.
The Doctor stepped through, a small suitcase dragging behind him. The doors seemed to go sideways rather than round and round, as they had appeared to do from outside. The white marble floor inside gave the impression that it sloped downwards, towards a long wooden desk. The desk itself was manned by at least twenty people, all dressed in dark red.
The Doctor and Jack approached a young blonde woman standing at a station, who welcomed them warmly to the hotel. Her nails were finely manicured, her lipstick perfectly applied. This façade seemed to be the norm for people on this planet – not one person who stood at the desk had even the slightest fault in appearance.
"You room is on level 234, room 442. Thank you for staying at the Hotel Grande. We hope your stay will be enjoyable,' her thick voice warbled, as she booked them into the hotel via computer, without even asking what they wanted. She flashed the Doctor a straight-toothed grin, waving a hand in the direction of the elevator. "Luggage will be delivered to your room."
The Doctor smiled back at her, turning his head on its side to look at her name plate, which read, 'penny'. "Thank you, Penny," he said, nodding to her. Then he and Jack, with a quick glance at each other, wandered over to the lift and pressed the call button.
The lift shaft rattled, and then a deep echoing noise shook the floor, before the golden doors slid open with a ting. The Doctor and Jack were immediately shoved aside by sixty odd people suddenly vacating the elevator cabin.
They stood back to let them pass, before stepping in themselves, walking to the back and turning to face the golden doors, which slid shut with a whirring click. They were the only passengers, and were surprised when the lift jolted backwards before they'd pressed any buttons. The sudden force sent Jack and the Doctor jumping forwards a step.
They quickly regained their balance, moving to the back wall, only to find there was nothing to hold on to. They leant back against the balsa wood and gold panelling, feet apart, in an attempt to stay standing.
The lift seemed to go in all directions, rather than just up and down, going far below where the ground floor would logically have been. The lift didn't stop for almost two minutes, the Doctor and Jack jerking about, occasionally dropping to the floor. They would have been better off staying there, as neither could stay standing for more than a few seconds at a time, once the lift really got moving. The Doctor was beginning to feel a little seasick. He'd had more fun on rollercoasters – which he wasn't particularly fond of, after a certain… incident.
Jack was just picking himself up off the floor, when the elevator doors slammed open and in came another crowd of tourists, obviously used to this method of travel. The crowd shoved Jack to the back, until he was standing awkwardly, face-to-face with the Doctor, bodies only a few inches apart. The lift started to hum again, the jerking not so violent once more people had filled the cabin.
"Uh… hi," Jack said nervously, above the noise of the holidaymakers. Most of them were talking into phones, some to each other, and others, just to themselves. The Doctor returned Jack's embarrassed greeting, shifting his foot so his thigh wasn't between Jack's legs.
The Doctor tipped his head back, trying to avoid making eye contact with Jack, and Jack vice-versa. Jack pushed his hands against the wall behind the Doctor's head, aiming to remove himself from the Doctor's (very) personal space. But as the carriage doors opened and twelve-or-so more people entered, Jack found himself pushed right up against the Doctor's body, their noses touching.
Neither of them could move away – people packed themselves into every available space; the Doctor calculated there must have been at least seventy people in a space that should comfortably hold thirty.
The Doctor laughed nervously, finding it hard to breathe. Jack grunted and pushed his back away from the Doctor, his efforts rewarded by an angry shove from behind.
The Doctor wasn't sure what to do with his hands. There wasn't enough room to put them by his sides, one shoulder constantly ramming into the corner of the lift as it jerked. The other arm was being scratched and whacked by someone's leather-buckled shoulder bag. He ended up putting them the only place he could find space – Jack's hips.
Jack gasped as a jerk of the cabin pushed his body harder into the Doctor's. They both blushed furiously, gasping for air, trying to fill the small area of their lungs that weren't squashed.
Jack's backside was suddenly rammed accidentally by a passenger behind him. Jack's hips were brutally thrusted into the Doctor's, who screwed up his face in an effort not to moan. Despite how embarrassing their situation was, he couldn't help but find it a little erotic. He wondered what Jack was thinking. The Doctor was sure that he must have been the time of his life.
Jack wasn't – but he was enjoying it; just a bit – in an awkward, sex-in-public kind of way. He should have moved away from the Doctor when he'd had the chance. If this had been any other person, he was sure he would have loved it. He would be touching and groping the other person for whatever his immortal life was worth. But not with the Doctor.
It didn't look like the Doctor was enjoying this, anyway. His face was all screwed up, and he was chewing his lip hard, leaving white tooth marks that lingered for a few seconds. The Doctor's hands were on his hips though, which he really did like. He could feel the warmth of his palms through his thin shirt, the Doctor's grip tight on his skin.
The Doctor freed his lip from between his teeth, his head relaxing against the panelling behind him. Jack's nose was pushed into his throat, his breath on his neck suddenly making the Doctor laugh. His head rolled to the side, narrowly missing the top of someone else's. His chin butted Jack's face out of the way, Jack grinning back at the Doctor.
Then they both gasped, eyes clenching shut as the lift stopped, the abrupt movement pressing their groins hard together. Two more people entered, the over-crowding of the lift not seeming to bother the other people, some of whom had now taken out books and were holding them above their heads to read them.
The extra people pressed the Doctor and Jack so close together that The Doctor's jacket buttons were beginning to bite into Jack's chest; Jack's belt buckle clipping the Doctor's hips. The lift moved again, wrenching the Doctor and Jack unbearably close together. The pressure on their lungs was starting to become intolerable. Neither of them could comprehend how anyone else could stand it.
And finally, the lift tinged open, the tourists falling out like water from a jug. Only Jack, the Doctor and roughly seven other people remained; Jack noticing for the first time that the lift had a floor counter on the ceiling. It read, 'floor 223' in red pixelated writing. Then the message changed to read, 'next stop: floor 234'.
"Hey, we're next," Jack murmured to the Doctor, who was straightening his shirt and enjoying the feel of air in his lungs.
"Yeah," he whispered back, not wanting to talk much louder.
The lift jerked one last time, and then the doors opened. The rest of the passengers walked out into a long white hallway, red carpet covering the floors right up to the golden skirting that lined both walls. Jack and the Doctor followed, walking past each room and reading the numbered plaque that was nailed to every door.
"428, 432…" the Doctor said under his breath as they passed each door, all the other people leaving them and entering their rooms. "…438… ah-ha! 442!"
They had reached the end of the hallway, the last remaining fellow passenger turning off at the previous door. He had been a stocky, middle-aged man with greying hair; he had given the Doctor a cheery wave before entering his room, apparently with no need for a key.
It seemed that neither the Doctor nor Jack needed a key either, as the white door swung open as soon as they came within a metre of it. They walked into the well-furnished room, seeing a comfortable-looking two-seater sofa, plus another stand-alone with wide arms; plush magnolia carpets, a black-tiled ensuite bathroom, well visible from the door; and a magnificent ceiling-to-floor-lace-draped four-poster bed –
"Ah –" the Doctor said, instantly dubious.
"Yeah," Jack agreed.
"…One bed."
"Yeah," Jack agreed again.
"Should we go down and complain?" asked the Doctor.
"You really want to stand in that lift for another ten minutes?!" Jack pointed out. The Doctor nodded his head sideways in reluctant agreement. "So, who's taking the sofa?" Jack asked, spotting their luggage piled up on a window seat. Outside, a deep purple sunset came steadily to an end, orange clouds looking strangely out of place.
"There's room in the bed, isn't there?" the Doctor asked back, waving his arm at it. Jack stared at him, a small smile spreading over his face.
"You don't mind sleeping with a man, then," Jack said, perhaps a little suggestively.
"We-ell… as long as it's actually sleeping. Not sleeping with…" he grinned. Jack raised his eyebrows and grinned back, giving a little chuckle, eyes flicking to his shoes then back to the Doctor's face.
Then he wandered over to the bed, going to sit on the left, the side closer to the bathroom. He lay back, sighing as the bed took his weight. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. The Doctor watched, admiring Jack's strong, masculine grace. He stuck his hands into his trouser pockets, rocking gently on the balls of his feet.
Jack looked up – and saw the Doctor staring at him, smile faint on his lips. He sat up, turning to face him, giving him a questioning look. The Doctor jumped, as if just realising Jack was staring back. His eyes fell to the floor, clearing his throat.
"So, Jack," the Doctor said, conversationally.
"Mmm?" Jack replied, standing up and fiddling with the lace curtains that were tied to the posts at each corner of the bed.
"You wanna go for dinner?" asked the Doctor, looking back to Jack.
Jack bent forwards around the post, hands clutching at the swirl-cut wood. "You asking me out on a date?" he asked cheekily.
"No!" the Doctor almost yelled, defensively; his face a humorous frown. "I just wondered if you were hungry," he continued, his voice lightening.
"Actually, no," Jack said, thoughtfully.
The Doctor replied quickly; "No, me neither. Good, then. Let's not eat."
Jack looked thoughtfully at the Doctor; he could tell that he was more than a little flustered.
"Well, anyway," the Doctor started, turning towards the bathroom, "I'm taking a shower. Be out in a sec."
Jack nodded, turning away.
When the Doctor re-emerged from the ensuite bathroom, he came across a sight that startled him completely. Lying across the king-sized bed, shirt undone and trousers heaped on the floor, underwear around his knees, pumping his swollen cock furiously, was Captain Jack Harkness. He was groaning and gasping, back arched, toes curling into the side of the bed.
The Doctor gasped loudly when he saw him, instantly dropping his gaze, his face suddenly turning bright red. Jack cried out in surprise, pulling up his underwear and grabbing his trousers from the floor, holding them in front of himself, panting, eyes darting everywhere in the room except for the Doctor's face.
The Doctor walked straight past Jack, hand rubbing the back of his neck in a futile attempt to cool himself down; his whole body had suddenly become burning hot, the heat swiftly becoming focussed on his groin. There, his blood began to throb, and he could feel himself fast becoming hard. He desperately wished that Jack would leave the room, before he did something not only embarrassing but completely irrational.
To his immense relief, Jack practically ran into the bathroom, slamming the door and starting the shower. For the next few minutes, the Doctor tried very hard to calm himself down, but found it difficult with the sounds of muffled moaning escaping from the bathroom. If he'd been wearing a towel, he was sure he'd have done something much more enjoyable, but he wasn't keen on taking his suit off after he'd only just put it on.
Once he felt he'd composed himself, the Doctor went on to move the luggage from the window seat and into a cupboard; then he searched through the bookshelf that was provided for anything that might be interesting. He found something; a thick, tatty book, stained with a grey substance that the Doctor really didn't want to know the name of.
He lay across the one-seater sofa with the wide arms, feet dangling over one side, head supported by a cushion off the other end. His tortoiseshell glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the book propped up on his bent knees.
Jack eventually came out of the bathroom. A towel was wrapped around his waist, another drying his hair and chest. The Doctor looked up from his book to gaze at Jack, removing his glasses and chewing the arm absent-mindedly. Jack finished drying his hair, dumping his towel on the end of the bed.
"Coming to bed, honey?" Jack asked, seductively.
"Yeah," the Doctor answered, picking himself out of the chair. "But don't call me honey."
"How about 'pumpkin'?" Jack grinned, slipping into a terrible falsetto voice.
"Shut up, Jack," the Doctor ordered, placing the book on his bedside table, glasses folded neatly on top.
Jack looked down, still grinning, and pulled off the towel that hung around his middle –
"OH! Jack!" the Doctor yelled, covering his eyes with his hand. Jack stood there, arms holding his towel open around his hips, gazing defiantly at the Doctor. The Doctor exhaled slowly, and then said, "Could you put that towel back on, please, Jack?" Jack grinned and complied, chuckling.
The Doctor glared back at him, beginning to unbutton his jacket. Jack just stood there and watched as the Doctor went on to untuck his shirt and unbutton it, slipping it off his skinny shoulders. He unbuttoned his trousers, letting them fall off his legs and to the floor. He collected up his clothing and placed it at the end of the bed, mirroring where Jack had placed his other towel. Jack still watched the Doctor, who then put on a navy t-shirt; now wearing only that and his boxers.
"So, can I take this off yet?" Jack asked, pointing at his towel.
"No. Put some clothes on. I'm not having you sleeping naked next to me."
"Aw," Jack said, in mock disappointment. Or maybe it wasn't mock, but cleverly disguised to sound as if Jack was joking. Maybe he wasn't joking. The Doctor couldn't tell. "I'll put some clothes on if you take that top off," Jack said, trying to compromise.
"What?! No way!" the Doctor said, grabbing a handful of his t-shirt and holding on possessively.
"Fine then –" and Jack pulled the towel off again, exposing his naked body. The Doctor stared this time, taking a short breath and holding it. Then he dropped his gaze and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it at Jack, who used it to cover himself as he searched for underwear – once the Doctor had told him where he'd moved the luggage, that is.
Jack bent over to reach the cupboard, his naked buttocks in the air; the Doctor found himself staring again. How could anyone have a body so perfect? His head cocked to the side, admiring him from another angle. He looked away as Jack straightened up, careful that he didn't see him.
Jack and the Doctor looked at each other, now both wearing nothing but their underwear. Jack admired the Doctor's scrawny chest. The Doctor felt a little self-conscious, wrapping his arms around his middle.
Jack walked slowly back to his side of the bed, a hand dragging over the lace curtains. He had a request for the Doctor, and was truly hoping he would accept – this was something he'd wanted to do for a while.
"Doctor…?" Jack started, cautiously. He didn't want to freak the Doctor out before he'd even asked properly. The Doctor looked at him to carry on, so he did. "It's a kind of… tradition… of mine –" he stopped, not sure how to continue.
"Mmm?" asked the Doctor, curious.
"Pillow fight?" Jack asked, a sweet smile spreading over his face.
The Doctor looked at him in disbelief. "Are you a six-year-old-girl, Jack?"
Jack made a face, then looked at the Doctor and grinned. The Doctor grinned back, grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed. Jack dived onto the bed from its foot, snatching another pillow, the Doctor whacking his back as he pulled up.
Jack slid off the foot of the bed again, twirling himself around one of the posts to hit the Doctor firmly on the shoulder; the Doctor hit him back, the pillow folding around his hips.
Then the Doctor fled, clambering over the mattress, Jack running around the other side of the bed to head him off. Jack got there first, pushing the Doctor onto his back, walloping him across the stomach. The Doctor laughed, pushing him off and flipping him over; Jack fell to the floor in a heap. The Doctor thumped Jack's back, who leapt up and escaped to the other side of the room, both of them still laughing gleefully.
The Doctor caught him up, shoving him into the armchair and striking him lightly over the head. Jack jumped up, seizing the Doctor on the hip, pulling himself out of the chair and hurtling back towards the bed, the Doctor in hot pursuit. He tripped Jack onto the bed, and he scrambled backwards on his bottom, trying to get away.
The Doctor dived on top of him, straddling him and whacking him over and over with his pillow. Jack couldn't stop laughing; he pulled the Doctor over onto his stomach, Jack kneeling between his thighs. Jack pummelled the Doctor back, who held up his arms as a barrier. Then Doctor flipped again, throwing both pillows off the bed, out of Jack's reach.
The Doctor was now lying on Jack's chest, legs either side of his hips. They both breathed heavily, still laughing. "Well, look at that! I win," the Doctor whispered breathlessly. Jack just grinned up at him, the Doctor's head dropping a little so their noses were almost touching.
The Doctor pulled himself off Jack, wriggling to the end of the bed and hopping off, picking up the pillows and throwing them back to the head of the bed. Jack got up and joined him on the floor, chuckling; both of them still out of breath. They stood, smiling breathlessly at each other.
"Jack, while we're still pretending to be six-year-old girls…" the Doctor cited, grinning so much that the corners of his lips went downwards; "… how about a tickle fight?"
Jack said nothing; but his grin virtually doubled in size, and he jerked forward to catch the Doctor around the middle. He started tickling him, the Doctor instantly hooting with laughter, scrabbling at Jack's arms. The Doctor bent double, Jack tickling him from behind when he turned away. He turned back to Jack, his hands touching his stomach and sending him sprawling on the floor before he'd even tickled him properly.
The Doctor pounced on top of him; tickling his abdomen and practically giggling with delight. Jack laughed again; curling into a ball to escape the Doctor's energetic fingers. This didn't faze the Doctor; his hands slid to Jack's thighs, his fingers lightly running up and down them until Jack was laughing so much that he relaxed his arms. The Doctor rubbed his hands over Jack's chest again, before Jack fought back, landing between the Doctor's open legs.
Jack stopped. The Doctor's laughter died away once he realised Jack wasn't tickling him; Jack panted for breath, muscles in his stomach still aching. His legs were spread against the Doctor's buttocks, the Doctor's knees falling over Jack's thighs. Jack leaned forward, his mouth only a small distance from the Doctor's.
The Doctor looked up into Jack's cool blue eyes, mouth slightly agape. His harsh breathing slowed, Jack's face leaning closer to his own. The Doctor glanced towards Jack's lips and back to his eyes, not sure where to look.
Jack's lips were even closer now, their noses bumping each other gently. Jack closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the Doctor's, who kissed him back; once, twice, their lips never really breaking contact.
Then Jack drew back, the Doctor lying dazed on the floor, Jack still kneeling above him. Then suddenly, without warning, the Doctor lifted his torso towards Jack's, hand reaching behind his neck and bringing him into another rolling kiss. The Doctor's head tilted to the side, Jack's mouth closing around his own – and then the Doctor pulled himself away, his head falling to his chest, grinning to himself.
"Sorry," he said to Jack, eyes closed and shaking his head, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done. "Good kiss," he reasoned. Then he looked back up to Jack, who gazed down at him, surprise still resident in his eyes.
"Yeah…" Jack murmured; his mind elsewhere. He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge unwanted thoughts. He got to his feet, offering the Doctor a hand. The Doctor took it, Jack heaving him upright, clutching his upper arm to steady him.
They stood, head to head, still breathing fast, their bodies close, the Doctor's hands still held within Jack's. The Doctor flicked his eyes to Jack's mouth, his lips slightly parted. Their noses touched, making the Doctor jump. He looked downwards, suddenly panicked and embarrassed.
Jack cleared his throat, moving away from the Doctor and towards his side of the bed. The Doctor went to his side, pulling back the duvet and slipping beneath it, his foot gently brushing Jack's as they lay down.
"Sorry," the Doctor mumbled, not looking up. Jack didn't reply, embarrassment seeming to flow from him like liquid nitrogen. He switched off the lamp beside him, plunging the bathroom side of the room into darkness. The Doctor sighed inaudibly, turning off his own light.
The only light in the room now came from outside, a deep blue-purple glow radiating from the planet's night-time sun. The Doctor gazed at the purple rectangle that imprinted itself on the white bedroom door, listening to Jack's breathing slow as he tried to get to sleep. There was something he really wanted to do, right now. So he did it.
"Jack," the Doctor whispered into the gloom.
"Yeah?" Jack whispered back, a little louder.
The Doctor said nothing, but leaned over to Jack's side of the bed, slipping a hand over Jack's exposed chest, pressing his mouth to Jack's lips. Then he pulled his head up, whispering, "Goodnight, Jack," and he fell back.
Jack lay in a stunned silence for several seconds, then asked, "Doctor?"
"Mmm?" the Doctor replied, staring up at the bed's lace-curtain ceiling.
"What was that about?"
The Doctor turned his head to look at Jack, the deep purple sunlight glistening in his brown eyes. "You know. Goodnight kiss. Like your parents might give you." He smiled; the corner of his mouth creasing.
"Well, I'm not sure what your parents were like, but my parents never snogged me."
"What?! I didn't snog… oh, god, I snogged you," he said, his voice going from a high-pitched squeak and becoming deeper after he interrupted himself, realising what he'd done. Jack grinned, his arm lifting to rub at the back of his neck. He too turned to stare at the lace ceiling, dropping his arm back to his side.
Less than a minute passed before Jack said, "The way I remember parents giving me a kiss – They'd kiss me… and then… I'd… kiss them back."
The Doctor looked at him, eyes sparkling. Jack leaned over the Doctor, planting a firm kiss on the Doctor's lips; hand sliding behind his head as the Doctor tipped his chin upwards, returning the kiss. Jack broke off, lying back down to stare back at the ceiling, blanket around his middle.
"Now who's snogging who," said the Doctor, rather cheekily. Jack chuckled and looked back at him, their eyes locking. They held their gaze for a little longer, and then returned their eyes to the lace curtain. It seemed to pour down around them like a waterfall, splitting into the four corners of the bed once it reached the top of the posts.
The silence took over for what seemed like a few minutes, before Jack shifted his body awkwardly. The Doctor's eyes flickered, noticing something. He felt a strange pressure beneath the blanket. The Doctor lifted the top of the blanket a slight, trying not to attract Jack's attention. Oh, bugger.
"You too, huh?" asked Jack, obviously aware of what the Doctor was looking at. The Doctor looked guiltily at Jack, who was chewing his lip slowly, eyes still angled upwards.
"Yeah…" the Doctor breathed, swallowing and trying to concentrate on something else. But all he could think about was how close Jack was to him, how he could just reach out and touch him. And how, now, he and Jack were in the same embarrassing dilemma.
He could feel himself growing harder, and nothing he could think of could throw off the enticing scent that was wafting steadily away from Jack. The Doctor opened his mouth, his breathing faster. He closed his eyes, trying hard to distract himself. It was impossible.
"Jack –"
"– Yeah," Jack replied instantly.
"I… I need to –" the Doctor stuttered.
"– Me too." Jack interrupted, knowing full well what the Doctor was about to say.
They lay still, their breathing growing ever more rapid. This was too much – for both of them.
"You want the bathroom?" Jack asked quickly, turning his head to the Doctor.
"That's fine by me!" said the Doctor, throwing off the covers and heading into the ensuite, closing the door behind him. The light turned on automatically as the Doctor threw off his underwear. He slid his hand to his throbbing member, pleasure and relief shooting up the Doctor's entire body as he started to rub it.
Jack removed his own underwear, skimming a finger along his length, listening intently to the groans and gasps that escaped under the bathroom door. He groaned along with the Doctor, pressing his cock into his hand, trying to stay as silent as possible. He thrusted his hand up and down in time to the Doctor's sudden gasps, pumping faster as he heard the Doctor nearing orgasm, groans becoming shorter and closer together.
The Doctor moaned, sitting with his bare back against the bathroom door, his hand sliding frantically along his erection. His back arched and flexed against the wooden panels, his free hand steadying him with the floor. He was close, so close. He gave one last gasp, and –
Jack came hard, hearing the Doctor's loud cry from the other side of the door. His back curved against the mattress, his other hand clenching and unclenching around the duvet. He gasped for air, relaxing and closing his eyes. He heard running water from the bathroom; he got up and went to knock on the door, being sure to use his clean hand.
"Doctor," he said, trying to stop his come dripping onto the carpet.
"Come in, Jack," came the reply; Jack opened the door. The Doctor was standing naked, drying himself off with a towel. Jack washed himself quickly. He tried not to look at the Doctor, avoiding the embarrassment he knew it would cause. As he turned around, the Doctor threw him the towel. He dried himself quickly; but when he pulled the cloth away from his face, he saw the Doctor stark naked, brushing hair out of his eyes.
"Wow," Jack whispered, looking down at the Doctor's uncovered body.
The Doctor looked out from between his hands, dropping his arms to his sides, blushing intensely. Jack placed the towel on the rim of the sink and watched the Doctor pace forwards, stationing himself next to him, looking into the mirror. "You look good," Jack said in a deep, husky whisper. The Doctor didn't look back at him for fear of blushing even more.
But the Doctor did return the compliment, muttering; "So do you, Jack… Really… good." He looked down into the plughole, and then his eyes drifted to Jack, whose buttocks were leaning casually against the sink. The Doctor let his eyes wander a little further, past Jack's hips and to his groin.
The Doctor bit his lip, realising Jack was watching. He looked up, and seeing Jack's bright eyes bearing into his own, suddenly uncomfortable, he fled from the bathroom, grabbing his underwear as he went.
Jack re-entered the bedroom, the Doctor back in bed. Jack slipped in beside him, blanket back around his middle. The Doctor had the blanket right up to his neck, but as he slowly relaxed, he pushed it down so it lay across his stomach. Jack could see the Doctor's chest rising and falling as he breathed, both of them still staring upwards.
About ten minutes passed, neither saying a word. And then Jack whispered, "Doctor? You still awake?"
"Uh-huh," came the quiet reply.
Ten more minutes passed. Jack repeated his question. The reply was the same.
Twice more this happened, each time the same. The fifth time Jack asked, the Doctor added, "Why do you want to know?"
"I… just wanted to see who fell asleep first."
"Well, neither of us is going to sleep if you won't let us" the Doctor replied, a little laughter in his voice. "And I technically don't need to sleep, so, you know…"
Jack sighed, smiling, and neither spoke for almost twenty minutes. Then Jack asked again. The Doctor didn't reply. He was still awake; he was just curious as to what would happen if he pretended to be asleep. Jack repeated his question a little louder, and then again, prodding the Doctor gently on the shoulder. He didn't respond.
Jack leaned in closer, his hand reaching across and taking the Doctor's head in his hands. He rested his own chin on the Doctor's shoulder, pulling his hips into the Doctor's side. He turned the Doctor's face towards his own, his hand touching his cheek and hair. The Doctor kept his eyes closed.
The inside of Jack's thigh ran over the Doctor's front, and he couldn't help but moan a little. Jack pressed himself closer to the Doctor's body, and the Doctor could feel noticeable heat from Jack's groin against his hip.
Jack's face moved closer to the Doctor's, and he kissed him, slow and sweet, lips closing over the Doctor's, a unhurried, steady pressure applied. The Doctor tried hard not to respond, not to kiss back.
But he failed, his lips twitching; he opened his mouth and pressed up against Jack's lips, head tilted a little. Jack pulled up, and seeing the Doctor's eyes open, he lay back down and turned away, tugging the blanket over his shoulder. The Doctor turned away too. Neither spoke until the morning.
The Doctor woke first, warm orange sunlight streaming in through the open curtain. At first he thought the warmth on his back was the sun, but as he turned, he realised that Jack's face was pressed to his neck, an arm hung around the Doctor's middle. He eased himself carefully out of Jack's grip, trying not to disturb him. He padded over the plush carpet to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Jack awoke a few minutes later to the sound of a running shower. Turning over, he found he was alone in the bed – and on the Doctor's side, at that. How long had he been on this side of the bed? He desperately hoped he hadn't done anything inappropriate. He generally had no control over what he did when he was asleep…
The Doctor emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a clean towel, hair still dripping onto his face. He smiled at Jack, mumbling a greeting, before going through their luggage to pull out some clean underwear. Jack slipped into the bathroom when the Doctor wasn't looking; after a while, the Doctor heard the shower running again.
He dressed, putting on his brown suit, which was still draped over the end of the bed. He found it difficult to do his hair properly without a mirror, but he didn't want to intrude on Jack. Especially not when he was in the shower… naked… hot water running off his smooth skin… The Doctor shivered, trying to think about something else.
Jack came out of the bathroom to bump into the Doctor, who was desperately trying to sort out his hair, which, presently, looked a complete mess. Jack almost laughed – he'd never seen the Doctor with his hair this badly set.
"D'you always look like this in the mornings?" Jack asked him, a grin creeping over his face.
"Not always. Only when I don't have a mirror," he said, frantically running his fingers through his thick tufts of brown hair. Jack plucked the Doctor's hands off his head, pushing his own fingers through the Doctor's hair. The Doctor looked at him while he did this, smiling faintly. His eyes closed as he savoured the moment; enjoying the feel of Jack's hands on him.
Jack re-styled the Doctor's hair with just his fingers; pushing the hair out of his face and evening it out over his head. The Doctor ducked down a little so Jack could reach the back, appreciating Jack's muscular chest, while Jack admired the Doctor's hair.
The Doctor lost his balance suddenly, and he grabbed Jack's hip to steady himself. The towel around Jack slipped, almost coming undone. The Doctor pulled the ends together and tucked it into itself, a little more securely. Jack blushed red, glad the Doctor couldn't see his face.
Once Jack had finished, the Doctor straightened up, going into the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror. It looked good. And the bathroom smelled good. It smelled of Jack. The Doctor inhaled deeply, Jack peering over his shoulder, grinning at his reflection. The Doctor grinned back, and then told Jack to put some clothes on so they could go down for breakfast.
They entered the lift cautiously; no-one else was in there. As soon as they were inside, the doors slammed and the cabin threw them both to the floor as it zoomed upwards. They were rolled from one side to the other each time the lift changed directions, Jack cannoning into the Doctor as they were shoved to one side.
Ting. The doors slid open, a whole bunch of people walked in, giving the Doctor and Jack filthy not-yet-lunchtime looks as they picked themselves off the carpet. Just two more stops, and the Doctor and Jack were thrown forcefully together again; Jack against the wall this time.
The Doctor's right hand was stuck uncomfortably between their two bodies, each jerk of the lift cabin making them more and more uncomfortable. Each person who joined the crowd of lift-goers squashed them together just that little bit more.
The Doctor's hand was starting to feel the effects. Pins and needles were shooting up and down his arm; his fist was firmly stuck between his and Jack's groins, and painfully so. Jack gasped when the lift jerked once again; his own fists clenching around nothing. The Doctor needed to move his hand before there were too many people.
The Doctor looked at Jack in apology, and he shot him back a reassuring glance. Slowly, the Doctor moved his elbow, freeing it from its trap. His wrist wrenched up between their hips, his thin fingers catching on Jack's trouser zip. The Doctor closed his eyes, concentrating on how to get his hand out. But each movement of his fingers sent a surge of sensation up Jack's body, who was noticeably trying not to push his groin into the Doctor's open hand. Jack's own hands scrabbled at the lift's wall panels, desperately needing to grasp something. He had to distract himself, or else –
Jack's hips bucked into the Doctor's, just as the Doctor's hand came free, falling to his side. Their bodies pushed closer together abruptly, the Doctor moaning as Jack gasped. The Doctor pushed his face into Jack's cheek, every breath catching as he slid his freed hand to clutch Jack's side. They stayed like this until the lift stopped, neither able to see the other's face. This seemed to save them both from embarrassment, despite the closeness of their bodies. The Doctor could feel Jack's semi-erection through the material of their trousers. And Jack could feel the Doctor's.
The lift tinged open, the entire crowd leaving the cabin and finding seats in the massive breakfast room. Waiters hurried between one table and another, somehow managing to cope with the hundreds of orders that were flying in and out through the double doors at the far end of the huge white hall.
Jack and the Doctor took the only free table within a 50-metre radius, pulling back the wooden chairs and making themselves comfortable. A young waitress appeared within a few seconds, requesting their order. It was Penny. The Doctor laughed a greeting, surprised to see her waiting on tables, in addition to manning the front desk.
"I'll have a… croissant with butter," Jack decided, seeing only one thing on the menu that he actually recognised as food. The Doctor looked dubiously at the listings of fancy ingredients, then at the prices – and ordered something that was most definitely off-menu.
"Marmalade toast, thanks," he said, handing Penny back the laminated paper. She nodded and sped off, oddly fast for someone with only two legs.
Jack grinned at the Doctor, circling a finger around the rim of his 'complimentary glass of water'. He adeptly played a tune from the squeaks that were produced, the Doctor appreciating his unusual skill. As soon as he'd finished, the Doctor shaking his head in marvel, their food arrived.
The Doctor's tiny plate was stuffed with all of one slice of toast, marmalade spread thinly over it. Jack's croissant was about the length of his middle finger, buttered so lightly it was almost unnoticeable. Jack picked it up and stared at it at eye-height. He took a small bite, savouring the little he had. The Doctor did the same, the thin toast shattering between his teeth.
"Well, at least it tastes of something," Jack said, ruefully. "Not sure what, though."
"Hardly," replied the Doctor, chewing his last mouthful. "Maybe if we paid more they might add flavour."
"We paid enough already – did you see those price tags?!" said Jack, rather irritated.
"The more you pay, the smaller the portions," the Doctor explained. He sighed, popping the 'complimentary teeth-cleaning mint' into his mouth, laughing quietly at the sensation when it whizzed around his mouth, then dissolved in a bubbling fizz on his tongue. Jack tried his own, beaming back at the Doctor.
They were about to leave the breakfast room, hardly full, but without the willpower to complain, when a voiceover called out, "Poison storms have drifted over these parts, yet again; would guests please be warned that stepping outside the walls of the hotels will be greeted by instant death. The storm is expected to pass within two days. Free residence will be willingly given to guests who were scheduled to leave. If you are bored during your stay, games can be borrowed from level 656. This is the Hotel Grande, please enjoy your stay. Thank you."
The man on the speakerphone sounded utterly bored out of his mind, as if he'd had to repeat this message so many times he'd not only learned it by heart, but it was the entire extent of his vocabulary.
"Aw!" the Doctor complained, shoving his hands forcefully into his pockets. "I wanted to go to the aero-aquarium! They have pink dolphins!"
"Does this often happen here?" asked Jack, following the Doctor back to the lift.
"Yeah, it was in small print in the brochure. Poison storms – fatal to everything sentient. They're not actually poisonous, it's just that no-one really wants to say 'Anti-sentient Anafaloogian Apocalyptic Andromodaean Actual-sized Poison Storm' every time you're trying to explain what's going on. It generally makes the meaning clearer, too." He shrugged, pushing the lift button.
"Will the Tardis be okay?"
"Yeah, she'll be fine." Jack nodded, relieved.
One of the thousands of available lifts slid open its doors, the Doctor and Jack stepping in, alone again. The lift juddered, both of them gradually getting used to this treatment, neither falling down this time. They kept their balance for a while, before Jack suggested something to the Doctor.
"I… have an idea for… keeping people out of the lift," he said, slowly. The Doctor enquired as to what it was, but Jack refused to say. "I'll show you when we stop." They felt the lift cabin slowing, another floor approaching. "You ready?" Jack asked, looking to the Doctor, who shook his head, no clue as to what Jack had in mind.
The golden doors slid back, and Jack pounced on the Doctor, kissing him hard, hands already in his hair. The crowd that waited at the doors pulled back embarrassedly, shuffling away, doors closing behind them. Jack pulled his lips away, his eyes a bright fiery blue. The Doctor gasped for breath as the lift floor shook beneath them.
"Wha… wha… what…?" the Doctor stuttered, running a hand quickly through his hair. Jack just smiled; a red flush creeping to his cheeks.
"It works, doesn't it?"
The Doctor smiled back, open-mouthed. The lift slowed again, and he stepped towards Jack for round two. He pressed his lips gently to Jack's before the lift had even stopped, Jack returning the kiss, hands trailing up his back and returning to their place in his hair. The Doctor gasped quietly into the kiss as the doors opened, Jack's tongue sliding into his mouth and touching his own.
He moaned, his hands curling tight around Jack's neck. The crowd reversed out of the cabin, a few throats clearing quietly, doors clanging shut behind them. The Doctor didn't relinquish his kiss with Jack until the lift jerked them apart. Jack looked a little sheepish, smoothing down his crumpled collar.
The Doctor was really enjoying this, though he didn't intend to admit it. He bit his lip, hardly waiting for the lift to even slow before throwing himself into Jack's open arms, his lips opening and closing over Jack's own.
Twice more they kissed as the lift door opened, twice more the crowd left them in peace. But after that, once the lift door closed, they didn't stop kissing. The Doctor didn't want to let go. Neither did Jack. Each pretended they hadn't noticed that the lift was moving again.
Jack moaned into the kiss, his tongue probing deeper into the Doctor's hot mouth, the Doctor's tongue sliding over Jack's wet red lips. The Doctor pressed his lips harder as the lift shuddered, the sensation almost making the movement unnoticeable.
A finger twirled around the Doctor's sideburns and ears, another hand sliding down Jack's muscular chest to fiddle with his belt buckle. They kissed with even more enthusiasm as the doors slid open again, finally pulling apart as they closed once more. Jack laughed, wiping the side of his mouth. The Doctor straightened his suit jacket, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked to Jack.
The lift suddenly threw them both to one end of the cabin, the Doctor's face against the wall and Jack's body pushed into his backside. Jack raised his hands to cover the Doctor's, pressing them against the wall on each side.
The Doctor exhaled slowly, feeling Jack stiffening, pressed between his buttocks. His face was pressed sideways to the wall, Jack's nose against his cheek. Both seemed reluctant to move, Jack unintentionally pushing harder as the lift jerked again.
The Doctor cried out in a strangled cry of excitement. Jack pressed his open lips to the back of the Doctor's neck, warm breath catching on his jaw. The Doctor smiled as the lift doors opened, a few tourists entering, staring at the pair pinned to the wall. The Doctor really didn't want to move, and the crowd was already flooding in – so he thought of something. He moaned loudly, his hips bucking into the wall in front of him, his erection pressing into the wooden panels.
Jack joined in, taking the hint. He pressed himself harder into the Doctor's rear, both of them crying out together. The passengers looked awkwardly at each other, and then walked straight back out, deciding to wait for the next lift.
The doors slid shut behind them, Jack pulling away from the Doctor. The Doctor moaned, and said to Jack in a hoarse whisper, "Don't – come back. Please…" and Jack complied, pressing himself back to the Doctor's body, both moaning again.
Jack bucked his hips gently, the Doctor gasping sideways against the wall. Jack ran his hands down the Doctor's hips, sliding his hand between the Doctor's body and wall.
The Doctor tipped his head back against Jack's shoulders, moving away from the wall a little so Jack could touch him. He gasped quietly as Jack smoothed his hand over the his covered groin, then groaning and pushing himself into Jack's hand.
Jack twitched as the Doctor managed to nip at his ear, pushing him back up to face the wall again. Jack pushed their bodies back together, both groaning as Jack's face nudged against the Doctor's.
Then Jack dropped suddenly, sliding his hands and body down the Doctor's back and thighs, the Doctor half turning to see what he was doing. Jack bit the Doctor gently on his right buttock, the Doctor giving a sharp laugh as Jack stood back up, turning the Doctor around and pulling away as the lift shuddered again.
"What was that for?" the Doctor asked, smiling, leaning his back against the wall panels.
"Looked good enough to eat," Jack answered, playfully. The Doctor grinned back at Jack, crushing their lips together as he realised that the doors had opened again. He pulled away once he realised that no-one was waiting to come in. A quick glance at the ceiling told him it was their stop.
The Doctor wiped his lips hastily with his jacket sleeve, stepping out of the lift with a quick look at Jack, telling him to follow.
Jack strode after him, feeling odd with no coat and nothing in his hands to fiddle with. He stuck his hands in his pockets, mirroring the Doctor.
"Doctor," Jack started, a thought occurring to him.
"Yeah," the Doctor replied, hoping he wasn't going to reference what happened in the lift.
"Just wondering… have you ever had… sex...? Just for pleasure, I mean," he added.
The Doctor looked at him, still walking towards their room. "…That's a very… human… thing to do," he said, pensively.
"So you haven't, then?" The Doctor shook his head. "So… you've never had anal sex, then?" Jack asked, a little red in the face, chewing his lip. The Doctor shook his head again, smiling a little. "Or had a blowjob? Handjob?" he continued, a tad surprised (but more embarrassed) when the Doctor kept shaking his head.
"They good?" he asked back, curious.
"Hell, yeah," Jack answered, grinning at him. "Do you ever intend to…?" he asked, vaguely.
The Doctor nodded for once, still walking. "It's on my list of things to do before I'm a thousand."
Jack chuckled, and then enquired, "How far up the list?"
"We-ell," the Doctor thought, the bedroom door a few metres away now; "You know – right person, right circumstances, et cetera…"
The door swung open, the telepathic-ness of the hotel still working fine, despite the dangerous storm outside. Jack sighed, going to sit on the Doctor's side of the bed, nearer the window. The Doctor walked to the bookcase, picking up a pack of cards that sat on top.
"Wanna play Blackjack?" he asked, waving the pack around.
"Strip Blackjack," Jack said, without a second's delay.
"Okay," the Doctor granted instantly, taking the cards out of the pack and shuffling them.
"What – you agreed, just like that?" Jack said, dumbstruck. Never in a million years would he have expected the Doctor to agree to that.
"Yeah," the Doctor said, kneeling on the floor by the bed, handing Jack's deal of cards to him as he slid off the bed to the ground. "Winner of each round gets to pick what the other takes off." He grinned. "Things like breeches, ties and shoes would all count as one."
Jack nodded and smirked in understanding, then went on to win the first game. He ordered the Doctor to remove his tie and canvas shoes, and he complied, whipping Jack with his tie as he took it off.
The Doctor won the second game, Jack removing his breeches and boots. The Doctor unbuttoned his shirt but didn't take it off – special request of Jack's. Then Jack was told to take off his shirt; then his trousers. Then Jack won again; but asked the Doctor to take off his trousers, not his shirt, contrary to what the Doctor had expected.
Soon Jack was sitting there wearing nothing but his underwear; the Doctor was the same but was also wearing his unbuttoned shirt.
Jack leaned his head against the mattress, knees pulled up against his chest. One more win, and Jack would be completely naked, and the Doctor would have won. And he did win. But the Doctor told Jack not to take his underwear off. "Look, you don't have to –"
But Jack insisted, standing up and hooking his thumbs under his waistband, sliding them off his hips and down his legs. The Doctor tried not to look, embarrassed at what he would see – why did he ever agree to this?!
Jack flung his underwear at the Doctor's face and he turned to glare at him. And he saw – ohh, god. Jack leaned against the bedpost, stark naked, grinning down at the Doctor. The Doctor swallowed, dropping his gaze. He cleared his throat, standing up and handing Jack back his underwear and shirt.
"Come on, we're going to the games room."
"What, dressed like this?!" Jack asked, hopping back into his underwear and wrapping his shirt back around his torso.
He grinned. "Yes, dressed like this," he said, walking back along the long white corridor. They were both dressed in just a shirt and underwear now – and the Doctor was desperately hoping that his sudden erection wasn't as hard as it felt. It was getting more difficult to walk, but he kept going because he really didn't want Jack to notice.
Finally they reached the lift. The Doctor pressed the call button, and less than two seconds later, a lift appeared, a small bunch of people moving aside to let them in. They tried to stay near the doors, in an effort not to be crushed to the wall like before, but as soon as the doors closed they were shoved to back.
Jack was pressed to the back wall as the doors closed, the Doctor's exposed chest pushed against his own. Two more stops and the lift was already completely packed with people. The crowd shuffled around them, each jolt making both the Doctor and Jack gasp.
There was no doubt now that Jack could feel the Doctor's stiffened member against him – the Doctor could feel Jack's, too. There was still enough room to breathe this time. This in some way made it worse – each movement from another passenger or the lift sent spikes of pleasure coursing up and down their bodies as they touched.
The Doctor clutched at Jack's bare hips, Jack's hands hanging around the Doctor's shoulders. They groaned quietly together as the lift jerked again, Jack pushing his nose into the Doctor's ear. He nibbled a little, his teeth dragging over the Doctor's earlobe.
The Doctor closed his eyes, desperately trying to resist. Jack breathed faster, rubbing the Doctor's groin with his own. Jack groaned, open mouth, the sound vibrating through the Doctor's head. He gave a small gasp as Jack bucked his hips up into his own.
The Doctor gave in, sliding Jack's underwear down to his thighs, meeting no resistance from Jack. He slid off his own underwear, pressing his bare body to Jack's, causing them both to moan, Jack bucking his hips even harder. The surrounding crowd didn't even notice; all of them preoccupied with their friends, phones and books.
The Doctor gave another shuddering moan, his hand caressing Jack's hip as he kissed him roughly. He pulled his face away as Jack rubbed himself up against him, groaning in pleasure. The Doctor pushed himself closer, rubbing with more force. Jack gasped and smiled; his hand dropping from the Doctor's neck to his hip, trying to pull him nearer.
The Doctor closed his eyes as they bucked their hips together, Jack pushing his cock against the Doctor's. The Doctor gasped again, growling as he leant into Jack. They rubbed their bodies slowly but frantically together, the Doctor with more control, Jack's back still against the wall.
Jack grunted as the Doctor shoved into him; he pulled the Doctor in and kissed him, their lips breaking apart as they rubbed. Jack's groans were fast becoming more desperate – he clung to the Doctor's hips and rocked them against his own, their mouths so close that their lips brushed with every upward thrust.
The Doctor's breath was catching, his hands moving to tangle in Jack's hair. They moaned together, the Doctor's hips circling even harder into Jack's. Each thrust was now pushing Jack into the wall, a groan every time. The Doctor pushed harder, faster. He was nearing release now, and so was Jack.
And still, no-one had noticed. They still chatted, read their books, and studied their maps. But then a heavy cry pierced the stuffy air, and then another joined it. Everyone in the juddering cabin turned to stare at the two half-naked men who were pressed to the back wall, grasping at each others' bare flesh.
Lust blazed in both of their eyes; both of them breathing heavily, underwear loose around their thighs. Come slid off their stomachs, dribbling over their hips and down their legs.
They suddenly looked around, alarmed and uncomfortable; the passengers in the lift looked away and began to talk again, giving them some privacy. But neither of the two men said anything. Neither moved. They stood, eyes closed, trying to recover. Their breathing eventually slowed, the Doctor removing his hand from Jack's hair and dropping it back to his side.
The doors slid open, and the whole crowd vacated the lift cabin, a few passengers glancing back inquisitively. The Doctor and Jack remained in the cabin once the doors closed; still trying to regain what dignity they had left. The Doctor removed his shirt, wiping come off his stomach and pulling his underwear back on.
Jack did the same, but the last of the Doctor's come he wiped off with a finger, licking it when he thought the Doctor wasn't watching. But he was. And he walked straight back to Jack and licked the remaining come off his hand, his tongue catching the dribbles that had run down Jack's forearm. He swallowed. Jack swallowed. Jack grinned at the Doctor and the Doctor grinned back, both rather shyly. They replaced their shirts and left the lift, which opened its doors once they had gotten near enough.
They stepped out into a gigantic concrete storage room, filled top to bottom with games native to every planet and civilisation on the relative side of the Milky Way.
The Doctor laughed gleefully, stepping up to the front desk, where he was greeted by an attendant – Penny. The Doctor and Jack grinned at her. The Doctor quickly wrapped his shirt tight around him when Penny looked questioningly at his and Jack's bare chests. He asked her (a little hesitantly) for a game (of her choice), but she rushed off before he'd even finished speaking.
He raised his eyebrows at Jack, who grinned down at his feet, arms covering his chest. Penny came back empty-handed, and informed them that the game had been sent to their room. They looked at each other, a little taken aback – they'd been down here all of thirty seconds and they were already being sent back, job done.
They walked back to the lift, reluctant to go back in. But as soon as the doors were opened, a horde of people had already pushed them brusquely towards the back. The Doctor was beginning to wonder what you had to do to stay at the front. Jack's nose was pressed up against his own, once again.
There were still traces of come that lingered on both their stomachs; Jack's scent was still floating around, the Doctor desperate to breathe in deeply. He tried to do so inconspicuously, but failed – once he'd breathed in once, he had to do it again, this time deeper. Jack could hardly pretend not to notice once the Doctor had begun to bite his neck gently, trying to breathe in more that his lung capacity could possibly take.
The Doctor was groaning, biting at Jack's ear now, a hand wandering through his hair again. God, was Jack enjoying this. Jack could feel the Doctor stiffening against his body, his other hand slipping between Jack's boxers and his skin, touching Jack's buttocks.
The Doctor dragged their bodies closer together; Jack ran his hands down the Doctor's back beneath his loose shirt, slipping his hands into his underwear. The Doctor moaned, his open mouth pressed to Jack's jaw, teeth applying a light pressure.
This time, it seemed their journey was shorter than before – after only three stops, the rest of the passengers had left, and one more stop let Jack and the Doctor out, both uncomfortable and again trying to avoid eye contact with each other. Jack pulled his shirt properly back onto his shoulders, following the Doctor out of the lift and back down the hallway. The Doctor looked to Jack, opening his mouth to say something. Then he shut it.
"What? What were you going to say?" Jack asked, softly, still embarrassed.
"Just… I think, maybe… we should just forget what… happened," the Doctor said, turning red again, voice quietening as he spoke. Jack just nodded, not sure if he really wanted to. Obviously the Doctor wanted to forget, or else he wouldn't have asked, but he agreed that it would change how they related to one another.
So, he nodded to the Doctor. They were both happy with their relationship as it was; to change it into something that wasn't straight-out friendship would be… odd.
Neither had realised what the other really wanted. Neither thought the other had wanted a kind of sexual relationship. The other had just… made a mistake – a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing. They didn't really want it. Of course not. Not just yet, anyway.
They reached the door, and it opened to reveal a game of Twister already set up; their abandoned game of cards packed away and back on the shelf.
"Wanna play?" the Doctor asked, smiling at Jack again. Jack looked at him. So that was it then – forgotten already. The Doctor really hadn't wanted him. He'd made a mistake, and now he'd forgotten, like he'd asked Jack to do. They were moving on with their lives already.
Jack imitated the Doctor's flippant gestures, smiling back and enthusing over the game. The Doctor realised that Jack really had forgotten. So that was it then. Jack hadn't wanted him. He'd just gone along for the moment. He'd made a mistake, and now they were to forget it. He didn't think Jack would want to forget what had happened. The Doctor had thought Jack had always wanted him. Now he saw he was wrong.
They began to play – the spinner spun on voice command – each player had to say "spin" before it would spin itself and read out the instruction aloud. The Doctor moved first, then Jack; once both pairs of their feet and hands were on the coloured blobs, they played for real.
After only about six moves each, the Doctor was hovering on his back, Jack trying not to fall on top of him. Their faces were pressed together again; something they still weren't quite used to. But what was really distracting was that their groins were also pressed together; something the Doctor really wasn't used to.
"Spin, damn you! SPIN!" he yelled at the spinner, controlling his laughter, trying not to collapse under the strain of his muscles and the pressure from Jack above him.
"It's my turn! I have to tell it to do that," he said, laughing back at the Doctor below him.
"Well, tell it to, then!" he screeched, his head falling back in irritation.
"Why should I?" Jack asked, teasing.
"Because, you moron, I will lose, and I will blame you."
"That's not a reason," he chucked, loving the feel of the Doctor's hips pressing up against his own, trying to support his own weight. The Doctor gave a cry of frustration, then collapsed, exhausted limbs giving way. "HA! I win," Jack said, dropping on top of the Doctor, straddling his hips. The Doctor moaned, exasperated.
"Jack, you're a moron."
"Oh, I'm much more than that," he said, his voice heavy with lust already. The Doctor didn't pick up on it – it was a tone he'd heard many times before from Jack – and since he'd never really made a move, he'd automatically learned to ignore it. The Doctor chucked as Jack breathed on his neck.
"Jack, you're tickling me!" he laughed, his thigh kicking him from behind. Jack growled, biting down on the Doctor's neck, tongue rasping over the soft skin. The Doctor moaned playfully, shoving Jack's head away from him, still laughing.
Jack clambered off him awkwardly, rolling onto his back, smiling up at the ceiling. The Doctor got up, holding out a hand to pull Jack up. They smiled together as they stood, Jack grabbing the Doctor by the hips and pulling him round so they could play again.
"Spin!" Jack commanded, and the spinner complied.
"Cheat," the Doctor muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Jack to hear.
"Excuse me?" Jack said, in mock astonishment. The Doctor grinned at him, making his own move in the game.
Jack took another turn, then the Doctor. Soon they were playing fairly again – until the Doctor ended up with his face in Jack's crotch. He laughed, and blew gently, causing the whole of Jack's body to twitch and convulse with a kind of throbbing sensitivity.
Jack stared at him from between his legs; the Doctor bent his head to look back, grinning innocently. Jack abandoned his position, turning to face the Doctor, who relaxed and sat back, legs apart, not sure what Jack was about to do. What Jack did sent the Doctor into pleasured convulsions of his own.
Jack bit the Doctor between the legs – not too much to hurt, but hard enough that the Doctor felt it all the way to the tips of his fingers. He cried out, falling back onto the floor, legs spreading even further apart. He smiled, eyes closed, savouring what he felt. He loved this feeling. He wanted Jack to do it again.
But when he opened his eyes, Jack was standing up again, holding out a hand for the Doctor to take. He took it, albeit reluctantly. But he smiled back at Jack, giving him a friendly shove back to his starting point.
They played again and again, their game stretching for what must have been hours, both hoping that the other would do something more than a little suggestive. But nothing happened until the Doctor was straining his arm around Jack's body, reaching for another blob.
The Doctor gave a loud cry of exertion as he stretched. Jack couldn't see his face; the sound the Doctor made could quite easily have been mistaken for a cry of pleasure, of passion. It wasn't that Jack mistook it – he just imagined that it was.
He hardened immediately, his whole body reacting to the small sound that the Doctor had made. He exhaled slowly – and stopped, when he realised that the Doctor had stopped, no longer reaching for the coloured blob.
But he hadn't reached it yet. He'd stopped with his arm in mid-air. But – no, it wasn't in mid-air. His arm had brushed against the throbbing hardness straining against the cloth of Jack's boxers. And the Doctor had stopped. He let the back of his hand rest against it, touching it gently. Jack gave a deep moan, his hips gyrating softly into the Doctor's hand.
The Doctor smiled, dragging the back of his fingertips lightly across the bulge, trying to move his neck to he could see. He couldn't move enough unless he forfeited the game. So he did.
He knelt and turned his shoulders so he could reach his other hand to Jack's pants; it was more comfortable for him that way, it seemed. He slid his hand along Jack's covered length, enjoying the quiet moans that Jack let out.
Jack knelt too, the Doctor moving closer. The Doctor knelt up over Jack, so he was straddling his lap, with enough space between them for the Doctor to move his hand.
Jack's eyes were closed, each movement of the Doctor's hand making him gasp and shudder. The Doctor slid his hand up so he touched Jack's abdomen, muscles flexing involuntarily beneath his touch. His hand moved up, his other joining it at Jack's shoulders and moving down together, Jack still groaning at the sensation.
His head tipped back with a sudden moan, and the Doctor leaned forward to bite him gently on the chin, little nips all down his neck to his collarbone, where the Doctor licked him, along his shoulder, up the side of his neck to his ear. He tugged gently at his earlobe –
And then he pulled himself off Jack. He fumbled with his loose shirt, trying to use it to cover himself below the hips. Jack stood up, looking just as awkward himself, wrapping his shirt around his middle, both trying and failing to preserve their modesty.
Jack and the Doctor exchanged glances, before Jack wandered over to the bed and sat down, the Doctor leaning his head against the wooden support pole at its foot. They closed their eyes, both meaning to distract themselves.
Barely a minute passed before Jack asked the Doctor, "What are you thinking about?"
"Jackie Tyler," the Doctor replied, laughing slightly.
"Rose's mother?"
"Yeah, her. She kissed me once. Ugh. Horrible…" he mumbled, head rolling against the wood. "You?"
"Oh, you know – blood, guts, gore, horror, death. That stuff," Jack said, looking up at the Doctor. The Doctor looked back, one eye peering around the pole. They smiled at each other, the Doctor's hand sliding up and around the pole, fiddling with the lace.
Jack closed his eyes again, head resting on his hands. The Doctor didn't look away. He really should. Really. Really, really should. Why didn't he? He didn't want to.
He liked looking at Jack. What wasn't to like? He was beautiful. The Doctor chewed his lip, not blinking. He admired Jack's fine hair, his broad shoulders and smooth chest; his (regretfully, covered) round buttocks and his (now throbbing) dick, his muscular legs and elegant feet – god, he was adorable.
It was a while before the Doctor noticed three things – first, his teeth were grating the bedpost; and second, he was drooling; and third, his penis was throbbing even harder than before he'd tried to think about Jackie Tyler. This wasn't working. So he excused himself to the shower. He'd needed a shower anyway.
When the Doctor came out of the shower for the second time that day, he requested that Jack arrange his hair again. He'd liked it better when Jack had done it. Or… maybe he'd just liked Jack doing it…
He breathed in Jack's scent as he set his hair; he realised he could see come strains on Jack's underwear – he'd obviously given in and had a wank anyway. So much for blood, guts, gore, horror and death. Maybe he should have met Jackie Tyler.
It also occurred to him that Jack hadn't washed his hands before touching the Doctor's hair. Oh, what the hell – it was kinky…
"Jack," the Doctor said, smiling at his previous thought, but now wanting to ask something. He'd been thinking about something Jack had said, the whole time they'd played Twister, and if now wasn't the time to ask, when was?
"Mmm?" Jack replied, dragging out the hair-styling session much longer than he needed to. He loved the feel of the Doctor's hair in his hands.
"You know what you were saying… about… blowjobs… and that," he said, blushing again.
Not sure what the Doctor wanted to say, Jack said, "Mmm…?"
"D'you think… you could…" he paused, swallowing, and then he continued, "…get someone… to…" he trailed off, voice high, too embarrassed to continue.
Jack finished with the Doctor's hair, pulling away so the Doctor could straighten up. He grinned at the Doctor, now knowing exactly what he was saying. "Sure," he said. "I think there was a room service button over there," he said, pointing vaguely towards the bookcase. The Doctor grinned, shaking his head in amusement.
Then Jack became a little more serious, but still playful. "I'm sure I could find someone downstairs. Do you… do you want a male or female?" He wasn't at all sure why he was saying this. He wanted the Doctor for himself! Why would he let someone else take him? Even for a bit of fun, a little discovery – it was just… wrong.
The Doctor considered this carefully, not actually sure. He'd never been attracted to men, but now there was Jack, and… he was starting to feel differently. In fact, there was someone he would prefer… "You pick someone. And… um… do it now; I'd… rather not have to wait… Kinda awkward, see…"
Jack nodded, smiling, and soon left the room, still wearing his come-stained underwear and shirt. He disappeared somewhere for almost a whole half hour. The Doctor didn't bother getting dressed, knowing he'd have to undress again. To pass the time, he flicked through a few terrible books, reading them each unbelievably fast.
He was starting to get nervous. He'd never done anything like this before – before meeting Jack he never would have dreamt of ever doing anything like this. Maybe he was just… horny – for want of a better word.
The Doctor couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex, and it had never been for just… well, pleasure. Sex was for reproduction purposes. But humans had always had sex because it felt good. And now, he wasn't exactly in non-human company, was he? Blending in was always something he valued. And if blending in meant having sex for pleasure, then so be it.
But there was someone in particular that he wanted. And at that moment, they were getting someone else to… do this. Well, wasn't that ironic?!
Jack sat outside the door, too scared to do what he said he was going to do. He couldn't let anyone else do this. He couldn't trust anyone else. The Doctor was his best friend.
His feelings towards him were way beyond what anyone would classify as friendship, but he had to do this himself. No matter what the Doctor might think of him afterwards – no – he just wouldn't let him know. He would blindfold him. He wouldn't make a sound. He wouldn't let him touch him, feel him, recognise him at all.
He had to do this. Now. He couldn't wait any longer.
After what seemed like hours of impatient lingering, the Doctor finally heard a knock on the door, and Jack walked in again. The Doctor was near panicking.
Why the hell did he ask for this?! Jack told the Doctor that he would blindfold him and tie him to the bed – he was grinning while he said this, and the Doctor relaxed; he felt a little safer. Jack would be just outside.
Jack took a couple of neckties out of the Doctor's luggage, fastening him by his wrists to the metal bars on the headboard. The Doctor looked deep into his eyes before Jack blindfolded him; he really wanted to believe that whoever Jack had persuaded to do this was really Jack. He only wanted Jack.
Maybe this was a mistake. Was it too late to back out? Jack smiled, and kissed the Doctor lightly on the forehead, seeing him panic a little. He slid a hand down the Doctor's chest to pick up the other necktie. Slowly, Jack tied it over the Doctor's eyes; the Doctor couldn't see anything, just darkness.
"Bye, Doctor," he heard Jack say, quietly, before retreating from the room, closing the door behind him. There was a shuffling sound, then the door re-opened, and the Doctor heard footsteps on the plush carpet, then felt the bed beneath him depress under the weight of this unknown person.
The towel around his middle was removed; he felt warm hands caress his hips and thighs, running up back towards his half-erect penis; fingers lightly touching and stroking it. He wasn't ready for this. He wanted Jack. What the hell was he doing?!
Then a hot, wet mouth encased his cock; he let out a surprised gasp – that felt good! A tongue ran up and down his length, and he moaned, his toes curling up into the duvet cover. Hot breath danced on his skin, the person's mouth taking him in again, sliding his entire length deep within their mouth.
The Doctor gave a groaning, stuttering gasp – he'd never felt such pleasure. His head bent back into the pillows as their mouth started to roll up and down his shaft, his hands twisting themselves into knots around the neckties. His hips bucked, his penis pushed deep within the benefactor's waiting mouth. He groaned again, aching for release now.
The burning hot mouth took him again, eliciting more delighted moans from the Doctor as he neared orgasm. The Doctor's back arched, his toes reaching for the person's body, wanting to curl around them. He touched cool skin – and was pushed gently away, hands holding his ankles firmly on either side of his body.
The Doctor gasped and groaned once more and released into the person's mouth, feeling them swallow and then lick him clean. He moaned as they pulled away from him – he heard them wash themselves hastily in the bathroom sink, shuffling footsteps, then the bedroom door opening and closing behind them.
The Doctor lay naked, blindfolded and bound, sensation still surging through his body. He gasped softly, recollecting how it had felt, enjoying every moment. It was a bit quick, though. He'd hoped it might have lasted longer.
The door opened again, and someone else walked in. "Jack?" the Doctor asked.
"I'm here," he replied, crossing to the bed and removing the Doctor's blindfold. He smiled down at him as he untied his wrists, pulling the Doctor's towel up to cover him. The Doctor said nothing at first, still caught up in the bliss he'd felt.
He lay still for a while, Jack putting the ties at the end of the bed and sitting beside the Doctor's spread knees. The Doctor sat up, pulling himself so he was sitting right beside Jack, their bare thighs touching.
The Doctor let out another shaky breath, and then said, "Jack, that was amazing."
Jack chuckled, looking at the Doctor. "Now for anal sex and handjobs," he said, jokingly.
The Doctor nodded, smiling. He didn't really have anything else to say; he put his arms around Jack's shoulders and hugged him, nose pressed into his neck. Jack hugged back, arms around the Doctor's waist.
"Oh," the Doctor said, suddenly, as if in realisation. He pulled out of the hug and tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling.
"What?" Jack asked, standing up and straightening his loose shirt.
"Oh – nothing," the Doctor said, looking down again. "Just – you went all the way somewhere to get someone to blow me, wearing nothing but a shirt and boxers, covered in your own come?" he grinned. Despite the tone of finality in his voice, Jack was sure that this wasn't all he'd thought of.
"I didn't go far," Jack said, as if trying to cover something up. The Doctor looked at him carefully, knowing exactly what he wasn't telling him. He stood up too, tying the towel around his waist. He shrugged, nonchalantly, as if dismissing all previous thoughts from his mind. But he didn't. Not at all. He knew exactly how far Jack had been. And he hadn't gone a foot further than the hallway outside.
He could recognise that scent anywhere. It had been Jack himself who'd carried out the Doctor's request personally. And it had been nothing short of magnificent. The Doctor had never known anything like it. He just wished Jack had said. He wouldn't have minded. In fact, he would have preferred Jack to do it, rather than any other person trapped inside this hotel. He had to say something. He had to tell Jack. He had to tell him that he knew.
"It was really amazing, Jack. Really."
"Don't thank me," Jack said, not looking up from the bookshelf, where he was propping up a few fallen books.
"Oh, I think I should…" the Doctor said, hoping Jack would get the hint. He did. He turned around slowly, looking the Doctor straight in the eye. He licked his lips, and the Doctor thought he was going to say something – but he turned back around, going back to the books.
"Jack," the Doctor said, ambling over to Jack, slipping a hand over his shoulder. "Thank you."
Jack just nodded, acknowledging the thanks.
The Doctor turned Jack around by the shoulder, wanting to thank him properly. Jack turned, still not looking. But the Doctor kissed him, catching his lips in a tender kiss. Jack dropped the book he was holding and kissed him back, desperately, passionately. Both let out a small moan as Jack's tongue slipped into the Doctor's mouth, and the Doctor flicked his tongue back, pressing his lips harder to Jack's.
Jack suddenly pushed him backwards, ramming the Doctor into the wall between the sofa and the bookcase, sliding his hand up against his bare chest. The Doctor slid Jack's shirt off his shoulders, stroking his skin. His hand skimmed down Jack's back, hooking over the waistband of his boxers and pulling them to the floor.
Jack grunted quietly, slipping his own hand under the rim of the Doctor's towel knot, undoing it and letting it glide down the Doctor's legs. Jack and the Doctor broke into another frenzied kiss, Jack's hands rubbing furiously through the Doctor's still-damp hair.
The Doctor bit Jack's lip gently, his kisses travelling from Jack's lips to his chin, before pulling away. He flipped Jack around forcefully, shoving him back to the wall. The Doctor pressed his naked body hard into Jack's, both of them moaning with the fast increasing need for each other.
Jack groaned as the Doctor rubbed a hand tenderly against his stiffened cock, his other hand frantically touching every other area of his exposed body that the Doctor could reach. Jack responded, pressing his hand firmly against the Doctor's backside, clawing gently at the skin with his fingers. His other hand rubbed the Doctor's penis, both of them writhing uncontrollably with lust and pleasure beneath the other's touch.
Jack gasped with every single movement that the Doctor made; the Doctor's erection pushing into Jack as he stroked him. The Doctor pressed his mouth fiercely against Jack's, drawing out another moan. They were both panting, only breathing each other's air.
Jack suddenly pushed away from the wall, dragging the Doctor to the bed, still kissing feverishly. The Doctor fell back as Jack dropped him back onto the bed, spreading his legs so Jack could lie between them. They kissed again and again, the Doctor giving out short purring, groaning sounds.
Jack tugged their bodies together, the Doctor bending back in pleasure, a cry escaping from his mouth. Jack thrust repeatedly, their arousals rubbing, more contact each time.
The Doctor was far from quiet; he groaned and gasped, practically yelping when Jack stroked his thighs in time to his thrusts. His hands knotted themselves in Jack's hair, the inside of his thighs twitching as Jack rubbed them. He became quieter as he neared orgasm, Jack becoming louder, groaning with each movement against the Doctor's body.
The Doctor began grunting, clutching at Jack's hair – he ceased breathing altogether in the seconds before he came – and then he moaned, so loud, and with such passion, that Jack lost all control of his own body and came as well.
Jack collapsed to the Doctor's side, gasping for breath. The Doctor closed his eyes, trying to stay conscious. He'd never felt anything that good.
"Jack…?" he murmured, finding it difficult to speak. He swallowed, licking his lips. They still tasted of Jack. He liked that. He smiled.
"…Yeah?" Jack replied, finally, still gasping.
"Wow."
Jack just moaned, his chest still rising and falling, his hands seemingly unable to function correctly.
There was a knock at the door – Jack looked to the Doctor, who stared back, begging Jack to get it himself. Jack shook his head, whispering, "We're not in."
"I know you're in there, you two; I heard you. You were making enough of a racket…" It was Penny. Jack grimaced, rolling his eyes, and pushed himself off the bed, stumbling over to the discarded towel and holding it to his body. He opened the door a little, placing himself as a barrier between outside and the bedroom, where the Doctor was pulling on clothes as fast as he could.
Penny stood there, a silver frame on wheels stationed behind her. She held a clear bottle of a bright pink cleaning product in her hand, a white cloth in her other. "Room cleaning. It's two o'clock. You haven't had your lunch yet. We thought we'd give you some extra time, seeing as you're... well… you know," she said, bending her head a little to try and see around Jack.
He shifted to the right, blocking her view. She gave him an apologetic look, and then repeated her request to clean the room. Jack dodged the question skilfully, the Doctor watching him intently from behind. He looked so utterly kissable. Even from the other side.
The Doctor smiled to himself, half-dressed. He wandered over slowly, completely ignoring whatever Jack was telling Penny; he kept his head low, not wanting Penny to see him over Jack's shoulder. His breath rushed onto Jack's shoulder blade, causing him to pause his conversation.
Jack quickly regained his thought processes, managing to pass off his pause quite unnoticeably. He smiled a little as he felt the Doctor's warm breath travelling down his back, his hot tongue stroking his spine as he went. Jack grappled with his towel, trying to keep from dropping it. His hands were feverish, and he was suddenly finding it hard to stand. He grabbed the door frame, Penny jumping slightly from the sudden movement.
They continued their talk, Jack now answering Penny's curious questions about the last planet he and the Doctor had landed on. Penny noticed that Jack was becoming more and more distracted, his breath catching every now and then, one hand fidgeting on the door frame, the other hand twisting around the limp white towel – but no, it wasn't limp. Not at all. Penny could see now, quite clearly; Jack had a massive hard-on; she could see it throbbing and twitching beneath the thin cloth.
He was practically gasping now, still trying his best to talk. She grinned. A hand was clutching his hip, another slowly snaking around under his towel –
"Ohh…!" Jack moaned, eyes closing, hand clutching the towel tight. His fingers scratched at the door panel as he bent forward a bit, his hips pushing backwards into the Doctor's open mouth, his tongue licking enthusiastically between Jack's buttocks. Jack's legs spread apart further on the thick carpet pile, his toes curling.
Penny watched the strange scene, mouth open in slight shock. A quiet squeak escaped from her throat as Jack moaned, the towel falling from his grip.
The Doctor was rubbing at Jack's front, Jack gasping with each twist of his hand. The Doctor opened his mouth, his lips closing over Jack's cool skin, his other hand sliding up and down Jack's outer thigh now.
He moved up a little, his nose brushing Jack's lower back. Jack groaned, his eyes flickering, biting his lip. The Doctor brought his teeth together lightly on Jack's buttock, causing Jack to purr loudly; the Doctor's tongue trailed down, flicking upwards; licks became soft kisses as the Doctor resumed his exploration between Jack's open legs.
Jack closed his eyes tight before looking up at Penny, struggling to find intelligible words within his present vocabulary. "'Scuse... me," he grunted, before shoving the Doctor back with his foot, pushing the door closed behind them.
Penny heard a loud moan, and then a thump as Jack's body hit the back of the door. Muffled thumps followed, Jack's hips grinding into the door as the Doctor continued his little quest. She could hear them both groaning passionately, and among other incomprehensible moans, she could hear Jack muttering the Doctor's name.
The Doctor made a small grunting sound in response; the rumbles against the door getting louder and harder each time Jack pushed himself into it. This continued for quite a while; Penny was thinking of leaving – she shouldn't be listening this anyway.
But it was so hard not to; they were so loud… – and then Jack groaned at full volume, followed by the Doctor, just as loud. Sweaty hands scrabbled at the wood of the door; one last thrust, and then all was silent.
Quite a while passed before Penny heard anything else, and she was again thinking of leaving, but then the door opened, and the Doctor stepped out, beaming at her happily.
"So," he said. "You wanted to… clean the room?" She nodded, grinning, and followed him inside. The bathroom door was closed, the shower already running. "You could do the bathroom some other time, I guess – oh, you should do the back of the… door." He grinned, looking a little sheepish. "I guess you heard all of that, huh?"
"It think the whole floor heard it. And the floors above and below you."
"You know, in an instance such as this, you're supposed to exaggerate – say something like… every floor in this entire building… or something. But… I suppose there's nothing wrong with telling the truth…" he grinned again, tugging nervously at his earlobe, his untucked shirt lifting to reveal his skinny abdomen.
He cleared his throat, looking awkward again. "I'll just…" he muttered, quickly leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Penny smiled to herself, and set to work – door first.
The Doctor knocked on the door of the room next to his and Jack's, remembering the cheerful grey-haired man who had waved to them on their arrival. He desperately needed a favour.
"Hello – oh! It's you!" the man said, his voice just as cheerful as his wave seemed to indicate.
"Uh… yeah," the Doctor said, with a weak smile. His voice high-pitched as he spoke, he went straight ahead and asked; "Can I use your shower? It's just that, well, my friend Jack, he's kind o–"
"Of course! Come in! You're the Doctor, right?"
"Um, yeah – h-how did you know that?" he asked, stepping into their room gratefully.
"Oh," the man said gruffly, with a wink; "You'll be surprised what you hear around here…"
The Doctor grinned embarrassedly. "Yeah… sorry, about that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he was ushered towards the bathroom.
"Oh, it's quite all right. My wife and I used to have nights… not quite like that… but I must say they were… similar." He smiled at him, nodding towards the bathroom. "I'll introduce you later, if you like. Take your time. And call out if there's anything you need. Towels are on the top shelf in the cupboard."
"Thank, you, sir – thank you so much–"
"Jorrald Griffiths. None of that 'sir' nonsense."
"Right, yes. Thank you, Mr Griffiths. Thank you so much," the Doctor said, nodding back, and smiling as he retreated into the bathroom, the light switching on automatically.
"Jack, this is Jeanne and Jorrald Griffiths," the Doctor said, introducing his new acquaintances. Jack grasped their hands and shook them in turn, smiling happily. "And this is Captain Jack Harkness," he said, waving his hand towards Jack. The couple nodded towards the Doctor and Jack, and then went straight on to ask them to join them for lunch.
"We know you haven't eaten either, and the buffet is still open, if we go now. You interested?"
"Oh, yes, please!" the Doctor said, only just remembering how little he'd eaten lately. Jack didn't say much, but nodded gratefully at their reminder. They made their way from their neighbour's small accommodation, down the hallway and into the empty lift.
The Doctor and Jack felt a little odd being fully clothed again, and in each other's company after what had recently happened, not more then 20 minutes previously. They were soon crushed to the back wall, as was now the norm. Jeanne and Jorrald seemed perfectly comfortable with the overcrowding; they were not at all flustered; their bodies easily squashed between four others.
Jack was already hard, his body reacting immediately to the repeat circumstances; also, the heat from the crowd, the feel of the Doctor's body pressed to his own, yet again.
The Doctor smiled into Jack's mouth as they pressed their lips together. It wasn't that either was really expecting this to happen – it just seemed easier than having to wait it out. Jack kissed back softly; both of them unbelievably embarrassed to be caught doing this in the company of friends. Or even, the company of each other. It still didn't feel right. Their present behaviour felt like an excuse – for not wanting to feel each other's bodies touching their own without having a reason, maybe.
Even so, the gasp that the Doctor gave when Jack slid his hand to his groin – it made Jack blush. And he didn't often get embarrassed when in some sort of sexually-orientated company. But there was nothing stopping them enjoying it.
Jack undid the Doctor's tight brown jacket, his hand reaching under the thin blue shirt beneath it. The lower buttons undone, he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of the Doctor's trousers. The Doctor opened his mouth in a soundless cry, open lips curling up into a smile.
Jack undid the buttons, sliding the trousers down to the Doctor's thighs and kneeling uncomfortably within the tight crowd. He slipped the Doctor's boxers down too, the Doctor's throbbing member becoming harder under Jack's gaze. The Doctor gasped quietly down at Jack, who was kneeling up, straining backwards against the crowd. He could feel hot breath against his penis, his own breath speeding with every second that Jack just sat there, unmoving.
Jack gave the Doctor a teasing lick, causing him groan quietly as he exhaled – again, the crowd seemed not to notice. The Doctor's hands messed in Jack's hair, massaging his scalp as he silently begged him to do what he had planned to. Jack pulled himself closer. His lips brushed over the Doctor's head with each and every breath they took. The Doctor wanted him to do this. So badly. Now.
He dragged Jack by the hair, pulling his mouth over his swollen cock. Jack pushed himself closer, forcing the Doctor deeper inside his mouth. As soon as Jack added his tongue to the mix, the Doctor found himself uncontrollably gasping, quiet vocalisations spilling over his wet lips. His hands tousled furiously with Jack's hair, his hips bucking into Jack's mouth. He was already so close to orgasm. He was going to come, right now. And he did.
"Ohhh, JACK!" he yelled. His hips thrusted frantically, his hands grabbing handfuls of Jack's thick hair. Jack knelt up, swallowing every drop of the Doctor's come, his hands clasped securely to the Doctor's thrusting hips. He licked him clean, and then stood slowly. Everyone was staring. Everyone.
The Doctor kissed Jack, ignoring the gaping crowd. Passion and lust burned in his eyes, dark pupils seeming to swallow Jack's embarrassment. He kissed back, their tongues twisting together and apart, hushed gasping groans escaping whenever they had a chance.
Jack's kept his hands at the Doctor's hips as they leant back against the shuddering wall. The Doctor never let go of Jack's hair. Even when the doors opened and the guests practically ran out, all of them mortified. The Griffiths followed at the rear, unsure whether to leave them or not. They decided quickly, hurrying off to secure a table.
The Doctor and Jack didn't wait long before they followed – nothing was ever much fun on an empty stomach.
They got some odd looks as they approached the Griffiths' table. Scandalous news spread like wildfire here, as it would anywhere. They were glad when they were greeted by two beaming smiles; their new friends apparently had no problem with what they had just witnessed.
A hush spread out from the table as they sat, followed by a frenzied whispering that seemed louder than the talking and clatter of plates previously. Jack looked around nervously – he never shied away from making a scene, but perhaps… this wasn't quite the right scene he wanted to create.
But the Doctor seemed fine. He was already deep in conversation with Jorrald. Jeanne smiled at Jack, sensing his uneasiness. She leant forward, probably meaning to tell him some reassuring. But she was interrupted. By the hotel security.
"If you would please come with us, sirs? You are under arrest for inappropriate actions in a public place." the leader told Jack and the Doctor.
The Doctor looked around at them, noting the loaded guns that they had slung in their belts. He swallowed, standing slowly, hands raised in submission. He knew they'd come after them for this. One observation of a brief moment of passion was too much for the hotel guests. There wasn't much they could do except give themselves up. They were guilty, after all. But it was a good guilt, the Doctor figured.
The Doctor looked at Jack, urging him to follow. He smiled down at him – this couldn't end badly, he knew. Well, what was the worst that could possibly happen? There was no way that they were the first to end up doing something like this – not with the lifts working like they did.
Jack stood, hands up. The leader of the small squad nodded, and escorted them out of the lunch room. Just before they left the room, Jack looked back to Mr and Mrs Griffiths, who gave them a little wave as they departed.
As they followed the very small army, the Doctor took Jack's hand – something he'd never done before. Jack smiled at him, squeezing his fingers gently. He could feel the Doctor's thumb rubbing his palm. It felt oddly pleasurable… suddenly Jack felt burning waves of lust for the Doctor washing over him, scalding him from the inside out.
He knew it now, for real. He wanted him – he wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to feel his skinny body writhing with pleasure beneath his own. He wanted to be with him. For as long as he could be. He never wanted to let go of his hand.
The Doctor was thinking along the same lines. Holding Rose's hand had never felt like this. Martha's didn't. Or anyone else's. No-one else. Ever. His and Jack's hands just seemed to fit together…
Why had he never held Jack's hand before? He could feel an insatiable lust rising within him – their odd relationship had turned from unconditional friendship into blazing, flaming desire for one another. The Doctor knew immediately which one he liked more.
They reflected on these thoughts as they were lead down a dark corridor – not unlike the hallways leading to the apartments, but this one had fewer lights. They could see the leader's dark, marching silhouette, clear against the grey glow from the room near the end of the hallway – the only room there that was lit from inside.
The leader stood aside, directing the Doctor and Jack through the door with the point of his gun. The door shut with a click behind them. The room was empty, except for a desk, which held all of one (blank) piece of paper. The cold cement walls seemed to leak a feeling of confinement, letting both men know that they were trapped, with no way out.
The Doctor meandered over to the desk, Jack following, hands still entwined around each other, fingers interlocked. He turned to face Jack, leaning up against the wooden rim. He took his other hand in his, silently pulling him closer and into a fervent kiss.
Their hands left each other as the Doctor felt for Jack's belt buckle, undoing it expertly, removing the belt and dropping it to the floor. The metallic clunk reverberated through the room, the glass lampshade hanging from the tall ceiling whining with an echo.
Their quiet gasps were intensified by the emptiness, every lustful sound the made twice as loud as they undressed. The Doctor kissed Jack's neck, his mouth closing over his hot skin, opening again each time he pulled away. Jack groaned softly, his hand sliding over the Doctor's bare hip, pulling his underwear down.
The Doctor slid off the table to let his last covering drop to the floor, before pulling Jack's own off, kissing him once more, slowly, savouring the feeling. Then he turned around; he spread his legs, grey sandy dust flying up around his ankles.
He sighed quietly as he felt Jack press against his naked body, arousal hard against his buttocks. The Doctor gripped the edge of the desk for stability, breath coming harder and faster as he anticipated the feeling of Jack inside him, touching him, their bodies as one. Jack leaned forwards, applying a little lubricant to the Doctor's arse. The Doctor shivered, anticipating. Now. Do it. Now.
Jack pushed himself in, slowly, letting the Doctor get used to the feel. He knew he'd never done this before. He listened intently to the Doctor's loud groans, his gasps, the way his fingernails scrabbled at the plastic coating on the table.
Jack took his hip in his hand, guiding himself in further. He rested his chin on the Doctor's neck, mouth open, tongue dancing lightly on his skin. He gave a gentle thrust, moaning in reply to the Doctor's small gasp. He could hear him smiling. He knew he was loving this. Every single second of it.
He thrusted again, a little harder his time. The Doctor moaned loudly, his head rolling back onto Jack's. Jack nosed the nape of the Doctor's neck, giving him a gentle nip, running his tongue along the top of his spine. The Doctor was panting now, leaning forward again and bracing himself for the next thrust.
He groaned, the loudest yet, as Jack pushed in further, and then slowly pulled back. Then he did it again, moving a little faster now. Jack groaned, his hand perspiring lightly against the Doctor's hip. The Doctor slid his hands off the edge of the desk and into the middle, leaning forward more as he relaxed into Jack's rhythm. The single piece of paper fluttered to the floor, dust rising beneath it.
The Doctor gasped with each thrust, his hands curling in and out of a fist on the tabletop. Jack placed his other hand on the table too, pushing the Doctor's torso down onto it. He thrusted faster and faster, becoming even more desperate with each movement.
The Doctor cried out as he felt Jack go deeper inside him, loving the intense pleasure that zapped like electricity through his body. Jack grunted, his hand sliding from the Doctor's hip to beside his shoulder. The Doctor's arms were raised on the table, fingers curled tight around the rim of the other side.
They both gave a gasp together, as Jack pushed upwards a little more, escalating the ever-increasing thrill they were both feeling. Jack cried out the Doctor's name as they both grew closer to orgasm; the Doctor panting furiously. They both gave a few more frantic groans – then they came; both of them, together.
"Oh, Doctor!" Jack, cried, his hands clutching at the Doctor's burning body. The Doctor cried out too, his howl of pleasure echoing in the cold room, bliss flooding through him in waves, each one causing him to moan with such blind passion, his hands frantically scratching at the edge of the desk.
Hot come dripped off the edge of the table as they relaxed, Jack pulling gently out of the Doctor. They stood up straight, the Doctor's legs shaking from the shock of such pleasure. He had to grab the desk again to keep him standing as he turned. Jack smiled back at him, taking his hip in his hand again. He pulled him into another enthusiastic kiss, their lips working themselves around each other as they touched.
"Not disturbing anything, am I?" the warden asked, rather stating the obvious. He had no malicious intent; he was just rather embarrassed at the scene he walked in on. He wasn't really expecting this. He had been told that the two men were being detained for "inappropriate actions in public place" – he'd thought perhaps a fight. These labels were somewhat vague.
He smiled nervously, nodding to them to put some clothes on before he took any disciplinary action against them. They obliged, pulling their discarded clothes on quicker than anyone the warden had ever seen.
They looked more embarrassed than he felt, which let him know just quite how embarrassed they were. They obviously hadn't been expecting someone to walk in. Not just then, anyway.
"Uh – I was going to detain you for further questioning, but… well." He finished his sentence as if it explained everything. "I think, perhaps... I think the boss would be happier if I just banned you from the hotel – any proper arrests go down on record for the hotel as having attracted bad guests. Yes, I think… yes." He seemed to continue the conversation inside his head, for neither Jack nor the Doctor could make a head or a tail of the collection of words that occasionally came out of the warden's mouth.
"No, it's not quite… But really… I'm sure that it wouldn't… And… indeed, yes… Quite." He finished this odd discussion with a word of finality, nodding to the Doctor and Jack with a friendly smile. "You are free to go, but you must leave the hotel as soon as this storm clears up…" he checked his watch; "…which should be in about twenty minutes, give or take. Yes, I think that's about it."
He nodded again, smiling back at the guest's embarrassed but relieved faces. "Oh – and neither of you are permitted to ever return to this planet. Um… ever." He looked down, a little nervous. "Sorry," he added.
"Oh, it's okay," the Doctor said, his voice a little crackly. "It's fine, honestly."
The warden cheered up a little, placing his hands on his hips and nodding to them again.
"So – should we go pack, then?" Jack asked the Doctor, but hoping the warden would realise that the question was really directed at him. Jack was not used to people walking in on him when he was with someone – or… even when he wasn't. He doubted he ever would be. But he might get used to it.
"Oh, your luggage has been sent down – you can pick it up in the foyer," the warden explained, waggling his fingers in a gesture indicating that they were to follow him.
They left the dank room, the security guards standing watchfully outside. They seemed collectively disappointed that their captives were being set free – crime of any sort was not common around these parts. Anything was a novelty.
The desk in the foyer was again manned by the red-jacketed people, Penny amongst them. She left her post as she saw them, led by the warden, to a leather-cushioned bench at the side of the huge hall. A young brown-haired man quickly took her place, seeming to appear from nowhere in particular.
Penny walked over to them, again impossibly fast. She sat down beside them, wordlessly, the warden standing guard as they waited for the green clouds outside to clear. She gave them both a reassuring glance, none of them quite sure what to say.
The warden tapped his foot impatiently, occasionally checking his watch. The Doctor caught Jack's eye, their gaze fixing on each other immediately. They were sitting right next to each other, the warden in front of them. No-one would see. They wouldn't do anything… too explicit.
The Doctor smiled at Jack, guessing his thoughts. They leaned in to kiss, the Doctor's hand cupping Jack's chin. The warden looked at Penny awkwardly, both of them blushing and trying not to look.
Eighteen minutes. Fifteen. Ten. They were still kissing. The warden couldn't imagine what they could possibly get out of this. They must be getting just a little tired. Bored, perhaps. But apparently not, as they were still going when there was eight minutes until the storm was scheduled to end… Five minutes. Two.
The Doctor's hands were still twisting through Jack's hair, Jack's lips still pressed to the Doctor's. One minute. Just a few seconds. Any second now. Now. Now.
The warden sighed loudly, glaring at his watch. Penny still sat on the bench, staring intently at the green smoke that swirled around the glass doors outside. It was lightening – slowly, but it was. She waved a hand at the warden, who turned to watch it too.
The wisps of smoke changed from the acidic green of before to a deep purple mist, then finally a bright orange, before vanishing entirely. The bolts around the door frames automatically lifted, a loud clunk echoing around the hall.
A cheer went up from the guests who were sitting in the foyer, ready to leave. They grabbed their bags and suitcases and hurried to the open doors, about two hundred people flooding out in a stampede of feet and luggage.
The man on the voiceover then called out to the guests – "The poison storm has now passed. You are now free to leave the hotel to visit nearby attractions. Thank you for choosing the Hotel Grande. We hope you enjoy your stay."
He didn't seem a great deal more cheerful, but at least didn't sound like his hand was in front on his mouth as he spoke this time. The Doctor collected up the small amount of luggage that he and Jack had brought, breaking the kiss to do so. He smiled happily at Jack as they stood up together, swapping bags and suitcases so they were each carrying the same amount.
"Thanks for everything, guys," Jack said to Penny and the warden, saluting them; they returned the salute and wished them luck and a safe journey. The Doctor took Jack's hand again, beaming brightly as he led him out of the front doors and into the pink sunlight. They went down the stone steps and across part of the gravel walkway, until they reached the parked Tardis, still parked in the ivy-covered alcove.
The storm didn't seem to have affected her, still just as square and blue as she'd been left. The Doctor fished his key out of his jacket pocket and slipped it into the lock. It gave a familiar click, and they stepped inside one after the other, a small suitcase bumping in behind them.
Red plants fluttered feebly in the freak breeze, an odd vworp-vworping sound echoing around the huge clearing. Then all was still and silent.
"So – how was your holiday?" the Doctor asked Martha, back to his usual pastime of flipping switches on the Tardis console. Jack sat back on the captain's chair, arms on the rests behind, ankles crossed in front of him.
"Well, if you want to count a two-day argument with your mother as a holiday, it was pretty good, on that scale. What did you two do, then?" she said, a upward-creasing frown spreading over her face, then splitting into a smile as she tried to change the subject.
"We–ell," the Doctor started, unsure where to go with this one.
"We… had a bit of fun," said Jack, ad-libbing the best he could. He had no idea what the Doctor wanted to tell Martha, so he tried to keep it vague.
"Oh, yeah? What sort of… fun?" she managed to make it sound suggestive; quite worthy of Jack himself.
"Oh…" the Doctor said, dragging the word out gruffly, as the Tardis floor thunked around, all of them trying hard to keep their balance. The floor then stilled, the Doctor leaning back against the console to continue their conversation. "Just… this and that," he said, even vaguer than Jack had ever imagined he could be when describing the sexual acts he had performed. He couldn't help but grin. The Doctor grinned back. Martha saw a meaningful glance that passed between them – she couldn't quite place it.
"Okay, you two! What aren't you telling me?" she asked, shaking her head.
"How should we know, we haven't told you yet!" the Doctor said, grinning. He was trying to throw her off, Martha could tell.
Whatever - this was the last time she let them go off on a holiday without her. Next time, she'd keep a close eye on them. She had no idea what they'd done, but she was pretty sure it wasn't what one would call orthodox.
They probably did something that all men would do, at some point. She wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that, but it was dodgy, no doubt. One of those night-down-the-pub stories, most likely.
Martha shook her head, dismissing all thoughts of this. After all, she technically would have all of time and space to work out what they'd done.
Starting right after lunch.
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