Title: Defending Your Honour
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing/character: Jake Simmons/Mickey Smith
Rating: FRM
Word Count: 1,878
Summary: Friendship is jumping in and defending someone when they are being put down. Love is wading in and beating the crap out of the people that are doing the putting down.
Notes/Warnings: Kind of AU in the sense that Army of Ghosts/Doomsday didn't happen. Half of this had been written up, but I got stuck and left it. I came back to it today and finished it off :D

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

Pause. Some stumbling.

"Watch it!"

"Hey, it's not like this is easy for me you know!"

"You're not the one that's been beaten to a bloody pulp, are ya?"

"It's your own bloody fault. If you hadn't have—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Silence, punctuated only with hisses of pain and gruff grunts as they moved unevenly towards their destination. After a couple of minutes, both fell onto the large bed in an undignified heap.

"Fuck!"

"Sorry."

"'s ok." came the strained reply.

"You know, I really think we should have gone to the Hospital. Your leg might be broken."

A shake of a head, "Nah, 's jus sprained."

"You sure?" A nod. "Alright, but if you never walk again you can't blame me."

"Don' be so melodramatic."

"Hey! I was n—OW! Jake!"

"You deserved that." The blond said; a small smile on his lips.

"Shut up." The dark man replied fondly. There was silence for a few minutes and then: "I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?"

Jake rolled his eyes behind his closed eyelids and sighed, "No, Mickey, 'cause I jus' seem to find all sorts of trouble when you're not there." There was a short silence, and then Jake added in a sleep-thickened voice: "It's not exactly the way I planned on spending the night, you know?"

"I know." He said around a yawn. He debated on whether to mention again that it was his own damn fault, but he knew the blond had had enough for one night.

Neither of them spoke again. Mickey could feel his eyelids getting heavier and heavier and he knew he should have moved and made his way to Jake's couch before he fell asleep, but despite his best efforts he drifted off into dreamland.

OoOoOoOoOoO

As Mickey swam towards consciousness the next morning, he knew he would be in all sorts of pain. His brain shifted slowly from "sleep" mode to "awake" mode, and he realised he was lying face down on a bed; his neck twisted at an odd angle. One arm was wedged between his body and the mattress (or at least he thought it was anyway...he couldn't actually feel it) and the other was flung out to the side and resting on something warm.

Something warm...and moving.

Frowning, he forced his eyes open to see exactly where he was. The watery-light that filtered through the gap in the curtains made him squint and he had to blink a few times to clear his blurring vision.

It was Jake; still sound asleep and by the looks of it still in the same position. He hadn't moved an inch since he fell there last night. Mickey's arm was thrown over the blond's stomach; rising and falling with each slow and steady breath the blond took. Jake's right arm was above his head and his left was hanging off the other side of the bed.

It was different, Mickey mused. When he and Rose had been going out, he'd gotten used to her soft body lying next to him when she stopped over; his arm thrown over her waist just under her breasts. This was...different. Jake was all hard lines and muscle...the opposite end of the scale to Rose. He was lanky and thin, where Rose was small and round. He liked drinking and playing on the Xbox with Mickey. Rose could drink any man under the table, but couldn't play Time Splitters no matter how hard she tried.

It had been four years now since he'd made the decision to stay behind in this Universe. Four years of Torchwood and Missions and friendship and worry, of laughing and arguments and fist fights and drinking. Mickey had had friends, but never as close as Jake. They'd saved the world together, saved each other more times than Mickey would care to remember and he trusted Jake with his life. Simply put, he was Mickey's best friend.

Only it wasn't simple. Not any more. It hadn't been simple for four months now and despite his best efforts, Mickey just couldn't figure out why Jake's body had become more appealing to him, or why he caught himself staring at him. Or why the last time he'd wanked...

The body under his arm shifted and Mickey's eyes refocused. Sleepy blue eyes blinked at him as he took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose.

"Wha' time is it?" he asked. The dark man suppressed a shiver at the sleep-roughened voice and tried to look nonchalant as he shrugged.

"Dunno." He answered, "Mornin'"

Jake just hummed and closed his eyes again. Mickey continued to watch him as a frown creased his brow and his eyes popped open again. He lifted his head and looked at his stomach critically. Mickey shifted his head and looked down at his arm that was still wrapped around Jake's middle. When he looked up again, Jake was staring at him, eyebrow arched and blue eyes questioning. Mickey shrugged again nervously and went to remove his arm from its warm comfortable place, more than a little embarrassed. Cool fingers wrapped around his wrist and held his arm still and Mickey's eyes flew to Jake's in surprise.

They lay in silence, regarding each other with apprehension and confusion. Mickey lifted his arm again and this time Jake let him go, hurt flashing in his eyes before he lowered them. He jumped slightly when Mickey's fingers returned, this time on his face making the blond look up again. Blunt but dexterous fingers gently stroked the tender skin around his left eye.

"That's gunna be a right shiner." Mickey said quietly.

Jake snorted, "You think?"

Mickey gave him a look and the blond grinned back, but Mickey wasn't smiling. He frowned as his fingers continued to lightly touch the swollen skin.

"Why'd ya do it?"

This time it was Jake that shrugged, "Does it matter?"

"You willingly went up against four guys, on your own I might add, and decided to beat the hell out of all of them." He answered, "So yeah, it matters."

The blond sighed and turned away from Mickey's touch. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers carefully over his face, mumbling something into it. Mickey rolled his eyes.

"You're gunna hafta say that again. I couldn't hear through the mouthful of hand you have there."

"They were takin' the piss outta you." He answered, taking his hand way from his face and letting it fall back to the bed. "Bein' racist and shit."

"So you beat them up?" Mickey questioned, with a raised eyebrow. The blond looked at him with a frown.

"Well what was I supposed to do, Mick? Let 'em put you down? Come on, gimme some credit, will ya?"

"No, you're supposed to be the bigger man and walk away." At Jake's disbelieving look, Mickey added with a grin, "Or at least come and found me and we'd have taken them on together."

The other man laughed and shook his head in amusement. He turned his head so he was facing the ceiling and closed his eyes again, bringing his right arm down from above his head and patting Mickey's back a couple of time.

"I'll keep that in mind next time."

"If you know what's good for you, there won't be a next time." Mickey said firmly, making Jake look back at him. The blond saw the worry and fear in his eyes before Mickey could hide it and the blue eyes softened.

"You've seen me in worse states." He said by way of reassurance. It didn't seem to work.

"That's not the point, Jake." He sighed and looked away from the other man. Using his free arm, he lifted his body up and pulled his trapped arm out. It felt like white hot needles breaking his skin as the feeling came back slowly. "That was aliens or robots, not four fully grown men."

"There's a difference?" Jake said sarcastically. Mickey gave him a look that told him he was not amused by the comment. "I'm fine, Mick. Bruised and battered, but otherwise ok."

"Yeah, but what if something happened?" he said, sounding almost desperate and hating himself for it. "What if I hadn't have got there when I did? Or they took a cricket bat to you? Or—"

Distantly, Mickey thought that kissing Jake was better than worrying about the many ways he could have potentially died the night before. His eyes fluttered closed and his hand came back up to cup the other mans face as the blond's lips sealed over his own. His mind seemed to stop as Jake pushed against his mouth with his tongue and Mickey opened up under the pressure willingly. A hand curled around the back of his head and held him in place as their tongue's slid and pushed against each other, mapping each other's mouths slowly.

Just as he started it, Jake broke the kiss. Both were breathing fast and the blond smiled as he pressed their foreheads together.

"See? I'm fine, Mickey."

The dark skinned man opened his eyes just in time to catch the blond's wince as he moved his leg. He lifted an eyebrow, but didn't pass any other comment. A comfortable silence fell over them as they lay together on top of the bed. Jake's hand was still at the back of his neck, long fingers stroking the soft skin there gently. Mickey's arm was draped over his waist, completing the circle of contact. He was...content. Happy. The last time he'd been like this was when he was with Rose way back when. Not that he'd ever admit it, but he liked just laying there and holding her close; and it was no different with Jake, apparently.

But this was new to Mickey and he knew that it would take some time getting used to. He was more than willing to try though.

"Kinda sweet, though." Mickey said randomly.

Jake frowned, "What is?"

"You. Defending my honour last night."

Jake snorted, "Why say it with flowers if I can punch the shit outta some guys for ya?"

"That's not funny!" Mickey said as he fought the smile that threatened to split his face. His mood turned serious as he voiced his next question quietly. "What is this?"

"This," Jake sighed, "is whatever you want it to be."

Mickey was silent for a few seconds, weighing the words and deciding how to put his next thought into words.

"I'm not him."

"I know. I don' want you to be."

The tension leached out of his shoulders at the answer and he nodded slowly, his mind processing the new situation. His lips were taken by the blond's again for a brief, reassuring kiss and Mickey smiled brightly.

"I'm not her." He said back. Mickey nodded, telling him without words that he knew that too.

"Come on you." He said, lightening the mood. "We'd better go tell Pete that we'll be outta work for a couple of days."

"Or not." Jake replied, "The only place I'm going is back to sleep."

"Lazy git." Chuckled Mickey.

"Hey, cut me some slack." He smirked and closed his eyes again, "I was defending your honour last night."

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