Warning! Contains quite a bit of sexy sex! In various romantic island settings.
Chapter 7: Intense and Indescribable
Jack spread his greatcoat on a grassy clearing on one of the nearby cliffs, and he and Fitz lay together, watching the stars. Fitz curled up against him, and Jack didn't stop him. Instead, he found himself running his fingers through Fitz's tangled hair without even meaning to.
"I can't stay dead, Fitz," Jack admitted. "I come back every time. Reborn. Completely healthy, like nothing ever happened. And I've lived so long... I think I'm even older than the Doctor now."
"Sounds lonely," Fitz said simply, and they continued watching the stars.
Jack saw a bright flash, like fire, at the edge of the horizon, somewhere in the interior of the island.
"Did you see that?" Jack said, sitting up suddenly.
"Yeah, and guess where we're heading tomorrow?" Fitz said, chuckling.
He leaned against Jack, rubbing his back. Fitz had a sort of peacefulness about him, a selfless quality that Jack found incredibly soothing.
"Beautiful, huh?" Fitz said quietly. "When I was a kid, during the Blitz, I used to stare up at the skies. Every night the bombs would fall, and there would be a little less of London left the next day. But the stars? They stayed the same. I wanted to be out there. Dreamed about it, spent all my time imagining."
Jack sighed and kissed his temple. "I always wanted to take Ianto off-planet, but somehow it never happened. You're lucky, Fitz. It's a gift. Being able to get out there, to see everything. To be with the Doctor for such a long time. Most people are lucky to spend a year or two with him, before he moves on."
"Heh, just a sucker for punishment, I guess," Fitz chuckled, nuzzling closer to Jack.
"But the things you've seen, Fitz. The times and places. Planets even I've never heard of. Gallifrey, before its downfall."
"Yeah, trust me, mate. Gallifrey's more trouble than it's worth. Bit too posh. And the Time Lords? They're pretentious gits, the lot of them."
"Every single one of them?" Jack asked, surprised to find himself actually laughing.
"Especially the Doctor, and you bloody well know it."
Jack kept laughing, and hugged him tighter. "You know Fitz, you're absolutely right!"
Fitz chuckled. "Been known to happen here and there."
He cupped Fitz's face, met his warm grey eyes, and smiled. "Well then, I can see why the Doctor kept you around."
Fitz kissed him, soft and tentative. As though asking permission. Jack kissed him back, losing himself in Fitz. Finally giving in to what he'd wanted from the moment they first met.
"All right," Jack said hoarsely, pulling away. "If this is what you really want."
"Actually, Jack, I think it's what you really need," Fitz said, unbuttoning Jack's shirt, sliding the braces over his shoulders.
"I don't deserve you, Fitz," Jack said as Fitz straddled him and took off his black t-shirt.
"Well, I've already had enough bad shit happen to me in my life that I didn't deserve," he said, kissing his way down Jack's neck as he spoke. "So have you. Why don't we even the score a bit?"
Jack let Fitz kiss him, running his calloused hands over Jack's body. It had been so long since he'd wanted anyone. Long for him, anyway. But Fitz was gorgeous in the moonlight, wide grey eyes framed by long dark lashes, set in a delicate face contrasted by his careless, unkempt dark hair and several days worth of rough stubble. He was slender, and tall, and somehow graceless, too earnest in everything he did. And one of the most beautiful people Jack had ever known.
Fitz unzipped Jack's pants. He began to stroke Jack as they kissed. Fitz pulled off Jack's undershirt, trailed kisses down his chest. He took Jack in his mouth all at once, deep down his throat. Jack moaned, clutching Fitz's hair as he lost himself in the sensation. Fitz's warm mouth, moving up and down, his tongue flickering everywhere.
Until finally Jack was too close, too soon. He pulled out and brought Fitz's lips to his own, tasting himself. They barely noticed that they were undressing each other as they kissed. Then Fitz pushed him down, gently, kissed him one more time, and straddled him. Jack gently stroked Fitz's cheek. With a smile, and a little wince, Fitz lowered himself, taking Jack inside of him.
Fitz rode Jack, stroking himself, eyes closed. Lost in pleasure. It was a gorgeous sight. Jack grasped his hips, and they moved together. Their bodies found an easy rhythm so naturally. He didn't want it to end, didn't want to face another day without this. Without Fitz.
He was close, so close, and then Fitz muttered Jack's name, stroked himself faster. Biting his lip as he released all over Jack's chest.
Jack touched it, brought his finger to his mouth, tasting Fitz. Tasting his essence. And then he couldn't hold back anymore, and released inside of him, pumping hard and fast and gripping Fitz's hips tight enough to leave bruises.
Then they fell together, laughing with joy and relief. Jack felt happier than he had in a very long time.
Afterward, when they'd cleaned themselves up a bit, Fitz curled close against Jack's back, embracing him. Holding him. Both of them cold, wrapped up in Jack's coat. And Jack told Fitz everything. All the things he never talked about, because who else besides the Doctor could come close to understanding? Jack told Fitz how he blamed himself for what happened, and what it felt like to die in Ianto's arms, knowing only one of them would ever wake up again. Wishing more than anything that it didn't have to be him.
He even told Fitz about Steven. About watching his grandson die. About killing him. And feeling like he didn't have enough heart left to break.
Jack wept, and Fitz held him, and nobody had been that kind to him since the one terrible week when his entire life had been torn apart. Leaving a gaping hole he didn't know how to begin to fill.
Then Fitz kissed away the tears, trailed his hands over Jack's body once again. Took him, so gently, with such tenderness, that Jack couldn't help but cry. Because he knew as much as he didn't deserve Fitz, he didn't want to let him go.
"Gone for a walk," the Doctor read out loud. "Great. Lovely. Just once I wish I could meet someone who didn't feel the need to wander off at any moment."
He looked at his watch. Almost dawn anyway. Maybe it was for the best, he'd been expecting another argument from Jack and was quite frankly sick of it. Whether to rely on River or not was his concern entirely, and whatever Jack thought, the Doctor had more than enough reasons to trust her with his life.
Even if he did find her absolutely maddening.
He made it to the beach as the first pink tendrils of dawn crossed the horizon, staining the turbulent tropical clouds all sorts of pretty colors. River stood at the edge of the water, wearing a grass skirt. And nothing else. The Doctor stopped in his tracks and simply watched her walk away from him, captivated by her smooth, pale back, the wet curls trailing down her neck.
There was a sadness in the way she carried herself, shoulders slumped, leaving footsteps on the beach. The Doctor thought she looked absolutely beautiful. His need for her to answer his long list of questions simply vanished.
As though sensing his presence, River turned around and smiled. "Hello, sweetie!" she said and waved, walking toward him.
And yes, she was topless. He'd almost forgotten about that part. The Doctor began to back away rather nervously.
"Um, nice outfit," he stammered.
Her smile grew wider. "When in Easter Island..."
"Yes, well, it's um, very nice. Very... Revealing." He continued to back away, unable to tear his gaze away from her gorgeous curves.
River's smile slipped. "Don't go, Doctor. Please."
Her voice made him stop. She'd sounded so vulnerable, dropping her guard, her charms, even the playful, teasing sexuality she always wore as a sort of protection against the world.
"You're beautiful, River Song."
Her smile grew wide again as she reached him. "So very glad you finally noticed."
The Doctor swallowed as she stepped closer, took his hands in hers. "Oh, I've always noticed."
She kissed him, pulling him close, her warm, soft mouth against his cool lips. They tumbled together to the sand, and he lost himself in the taste of River Song. Her hands were all over him, unbuttoning his shirt, slipping off his jacket. But he stopped, because he had to tell her.
"River," he stammered, holding her hand as she reached down to unzip his pants. "River, we've never, that is to say, I've never, not with you, anyway, not yet. Though I get the feeling you have, plenty of times, and I'll admit I'm rather looking forward to getting started-"
"Shut up," she said, and kissed him. And pulled his braces down over his shoulders. Then proceeded to remove his bow tie. And his shirt. All so smoothly the Doctor barely even realized he was suddenly half naked.
"Wait," he said, pausing to breathe. "River, I can't, I mean, what about, you know, babies and protections and preparations, and yeah, I know it's not likely, but it can happen, I mean look at–."
"Shut up," she said, each word with another hungry kiss. "It'll be fine. You know me, Doctor, I'm always prepared. Trust me."
And he did. So he kept kissing her, and then he lost track of time as he lost himself in her, touching those endless curves. Gorgeous, complicated, River, entirely his, for all of her intersecting past, and his intersecting future.
Their first time was lovely, intense and indescribable, their minds touching in an intricate dance as their bodies moved together, each focusing only on this singular moment. This incredible moment they shared together. Afterwards, they lay on the sand, feeling the waves lap against their toes. The water felt so warm, as River felt so warm pressed against him. Warm, and soft, and so very human. So very alive.
The Doctor couldn't stop touching her, feeling something very much approaching awe at the miracle of her existence. He let his hand tangle in her curly hair as he kissed her, again and again. Her soft lips against his, her hand trailing over his chest. He smiled as he realized she was tracing words in Old High Gallifreyan, words that had no direct translation. Once and future love, she wrote. Forever, and always, in all futures and all possibilities. My Theta Sigma. My Doctor. My love.
It turned him on beyond all comprehension. He found himself ready to take her again, tangled in her arms, running his hands over her delectable curves. Looking into those knowing eyes, her expression so damn confident in what she meant to him. What she would always mean to him.
As he entered her body, her mind, he was once again lost in the subtle mystery of her existence. All the secrets, the hidden knowledge that she kept from him so effortlessly. Teasing him with her mind even as she moaned loader and louder, scratching his back.
Then suddenly she was in control, flipping them over, so that she was on top. Riding him. Taking her pleasure from him.
"River Song," he gasped. "I think I love you."
And she laughed as she bounced on top of him, her wild, free laughter ringing out across the beach. An incredible sound he wanted to hear over and over again. He pulled her closer, whispering in Gallifreyan. She moaned some more. Yet another song he was growing quite fond of. Then her orgasm pulled at his mind, taking him over, and pushing him over the edge. They lost all control, both of them loud and shameless.
Then she collapsed against his chest, and laughed again.
"I love you too, sweetie," she panted.
He had so many things he wanted to say. So many questions that in all likelihood she wouldn't answer. River was a game, a mystery, a tease, a maddening adventure. He was utterly taken by her. She aroused him, excited him, drove him absolutely mad. And she was his, entirely, as he supposed he was hers as well.
So yeah. She was worth it. Worth any price either of them would pay. He squeezed her tightly, and tried not to think about the dark days coming. Or the ones that had already come to pass. For either one of them. He just held her close and forced himself to live only in the moment. And loved her all the more for it.