Chapter 7: Love

From the Doctor's point of view.

What the hell was he doing?

He had vowed not to let it come to this. He owed Jack that much. He could not be the one to seal his end.

But...if a kiss had not killed him, then another wouldn't hurt, would it?

Yet kisses led to more, and the Doctor could not tell how much more he could share with Jack without the truth shining through.

He could never love him back.

He could never tell him.

He could never risk telling him.

So how had they ended up so intimate?

How had the Doctor begun opening up to his friend after all?

How had he been the one to show up at the immortal's doorstep in the middle of the night?

"Don't think too much," he heard Jack whispering from underneath him, "Just keep doing what feels right – just like tha – " His words died in a moan as the Doctor found just the right spot, loosing himself in the heat of the moment.

Yet again.

It felt as if that was everything he ever did nowadays.

Falling for an impossible, wrong, immortal being...who held enough love in him for both of them.

Trembling in sheer ecstasy, Jack called out the Doctor's name and sunk back onto the mattress, exhausted from sheer satisfaction.

As ever so often, the time lord forgot himself over that view.

Jack was gorgeous.

With his eyes fixed on that content face smiling up at him so full of affection, the Doctor could not help reaching out and stroking his cheek fondly.

If possible at all, Jack's expression grew even warmer. "I love you, Doctor," he whispered, his eyes growing distant, his breathing slowing down...stopping at last.

Opening his mouth without any words coming out, the time lord could only stare back blankly. "Well, thanks," he croaked in a dry voice, causing Jack to blink in resignation.

At the very least, he was back with him.

"I...sorry about that," the immortal stuttered, slightly ashamed as he sat up, frowning briefly at the mess they had made, "I shouldn't have said that."
Releasing a breath he did not know he had been holding, the Doctor rolled over to lie on his back. He tried glaring at the ceiling, but it did not work.

He could not blame anything or anybody else for his own carelessness. He had told Jack multiple times not to mention love, and yet...he had almost lost him.

Again.

What had he done?

He should have known since their first kiss that Jack's longing for the Doctor was stronger than he had anticipated. A mere kiss had stopped the immortal's heart for nearly a minute.

Yet only once.

When the Doctor had failed to come up with a valid excuse, they had found themselves giving in to an urge they had both been suppressing. All too soon, kisses were followed by caresses, touches, everything.

Jack stayed with him all the while.

But when they had, driven by the heat of the moment, united at last, it took all of the Doctor's willpower and an overly harsh statement to get the immortal to reply.

"With your kind of history," he had found himself saying, "I really expected something a bit more special."

"Oh, my dear Doctor, you have no idea how much special I've still got in store for you," Jack had replied at once – and only then returned to him.

Naturally, the Captain's bedside creativity did not disappoint the Doctor after that - not that it had done so the first time around. But even if he had not noticed it, that first night had nearly taken Jack's life.

Nowadays, though, it rarely happened anymore.

And yet, as their current misery illustrated quite aptly, it did occur.

Every time, the Doctor wondered whether he should let go. Whether he could accept giving something good for a friend for once, but paying the price of losing him altogether.

Every time, the Doctor made the most egoistical decision; every time, he chose to forcefully prolong Jack's life for his own sake.

But it never got any easier.

"You'll have to tell me one day," Jack whispered into his ear, effectively startling the Doctor out of his reverie. He had not even noticed his friend approaching again. "Whatever frightens you so much about our relationship," the immortal went on and arched a lazy eyebrow, "I'm sure it can't be bad enough to justify spoiling the great ending to a nice evening."

He had a valid point, the Doctor acknowledged that much, but...he would not even know where to start.

Thankfully, though, Jack never pressed the matter. Rather, he released a soft sigh, reached for his friend's hand and simply joined him in staring at the ceiling.

They lay like that for awhile and the Doctor finally felt himself relaxing.

"Don't die on me, Jack," he whispered at last.

The immortal, now looking up at him with a surprised frown, was still with him, trying to help, trying to comfort. The problem was still the same it had been before, but maybe, just maybe, and even more cruelly than before, Jack might be willing to help reducing the risk without even realizing it.

"Even if I knew how, I really wasn't planning to," the immortal pointed out and rested his head on against the Doctor's again, "Because no matter how much you dislike it, I was stating the truth earlier."

Inhaling sharply, the Doctor did not even dare pulling Jack closer as a sign of confirmation.

I love you, too, but I can never let you know that.

Chapter 7 - End


Notes: I guess I might as well have stopped with the Chapter before that, but then again, at least now it's clear what this story is about in the first place. So even if it's built on a bit of an unusual plot bunny, I'm really happy there's at least some people reading this!

On the downside, though, I've met some problems that imply I should keep my hands off fan fiction for a while. There's only three more chapters to go with this story, but I don't want to kill the end with half-hearted proofreading (as I did with this update - sorry about that).

So thank you for reading! The rest will be up...eventually.