nightrider101 (nightrider101) wrote,

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FIC: Scorched Food (2/3)

FIC: Scorched Food
Author: NightRider
Rating: PG-13 for slashy implications
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Beta: The forever amazing starxd_sparrow
Characters: The Tenth Doctor and the Torchwood Team
Summary: “I won,” the Doctor whispered. His head lifted, his face splitting onto a maniac grin. “The King of Mortashon challenged me - me - to a drinking contest! In front of the royal court, of course. Can you believe it?"
A/N: This is dedicated and written for the lovely sarkywoman. I hope she enjoys it. It's more crack than anything else.

We're going to assume that Jack and Ianto have an open relationship.

The Doctor managed to raise the bottle to his lips over Jack’s arm. Only a few drops found their way to the sleeve of Jack’s coat.

“I didn’t realize you could get drunk,” Jack commented, easing the Time Lord against the table.

The Doctor grinned. “There are a lot of things I can do that you don’t know about.”

Jack coughed, using his free hand to massage the back of his neck. “I’m sure.”

“And I’m hardly drunk,” the Doctor clarified with a pretentious sniff. “Time Lords don’t get drunk.”

“Slightly inebriated then?” Jack asked.


“Let’s hope Time Lords don’t do hangovers either,” Jack said.

The Doctor’s eyes crossed and his eyebrows tilted in irritation as he stared at his tie that was dangling over his nose. Taking several breaths, he attempted to blow the offending piece of material off his face with little success.

“Greatest mind the universe,” Jack remarked, rolling his eyes. “Let me help you.” He deftly undid the knot and placed the tie on the table.

The Doctor’s eyes remained crossed as he watched the tie being removed. “I could have got that.”

Jack’s smile was gentle. “I know.”

The Doctor’s eyes caught something of interest across the Hub. “Oh, a sesquioleate diffuser!” he said happily, taking a step forward. Though his coat was barely clinging to one arm, it got tangled around his legs, and the ground came rushing up to meet him. “Oh, concrete!”

“Doctor!” Jack yelled, diving forward and catching the Doctor when his face mere inches from the floor. “You’re worse than a damn teenager.” He slid his arm further underneath the Time Lord’s chest. A pink tongue emerged and attempted to reach the floor. “Don’t lick that,” Jack chided. “You don’t know where it’s been.”

The Doctor studied his reflection in the polished floor, raising an eyebrow at Jack’s comment. “I licked you.”

Jack wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Well, yeah.” He lifted the Doctor to his feet, his eyes scanning the room for the closest chair. The Doctor leaned against him, his flushed cheek comfortably resting against Jack’s neck.

“Let’s get that coat off,” Jack stated.

Jack could feel the muscles in the Doctor’s face contract as he grinned. “I bet you’d like that.”

“Get over yourself,” Jack replied, keeping one hand wrapped around the Doctor’s waist and using the other to remove the Doctor’s coat. “You’re not that impressive.” The Doctor chuckled, his body shuddering as laughter wracked his slender, pliant frame.

“Whoa, hold still!” Jack demanded. Keeping hold of the Doctor was like trying to hold on to a stick insect, and soon the Time Lord was lying on floor, Jack’s legs on either side of his body. Jack stared down at him wondering what in the hell just happened.

“I am that impressive,” the Doctor replied, staring up at Jack with a toothy grin.

“You’re something tonight, but I certainly wouldn’t call it impressive,” Jack said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. “Let’s just hope there are no alien invasions or world disasters tonight.”

“Why not?” the Doctor asked, folding his arms behind his head casually. “I’m ready!”

Jack couldn’t stop from grinning exasperatedly. “Ready, huh? Think you’re ready to try standing up? We’ll focus on stopping alien invasions later.”

“If you’ll make the Hub stop spinning, I’ll gladly try standing again.”

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Just how much did you have to drink?”

Pulling a hand out from behind his head, the Doctor flexed his fingers as if counting. Each finger moved several times before he grinned again. “Enough,” the Time Lord said with a decisive nod.

“That doesn’t really narrow it down.”

The Doctor shrugged one shoulder. “It’s a technical term.”

“Come on,” Jack stated, reaching down and grasping the Doctor’s biceps with his hands. Jack lifted him carefully, giving him several seconds to gain his footing. He couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping when the Doctor wrapped one arm around his neck. Jack felt spiky hair poking against his neck as the Doctor dropped his chin on his shoulder.

“I think it’s time for bed,” Jack stated, wondering if he should just cut his losses and carry the drunk Time Lord to his room.

“Hmm.” The spiky hair rubbed against his neck as the Doctor tried to find a comfortable spot for his head. “Bed sounds nice.”

“Let’s get you back into the TARDIS then.” Jack started walking backwards, the Doctor stumbling slightly, his arm never leaving Jack’s neck. Jack was doing everything he could not to notice how perfectly the Doctor’s lithe body fit in his arms, or how good the Time Lord felt pressed against him.

“Wait – the TARDIS?”

Jack paused. “That is where you sleep, isn’t it?”

“What’s wrong with your room?” the Doctor asked, turning his head so his breath was now tickling Jack’s throat.

“My room?” Jack squeaked. “Why would you want to go there?”

The Doctor shrugged, his body rubbing against Jack’s. “It’s closer.”

Jack bit his lip. “Closer, yeah.” He expertly maneuvered the very accommodating Doctor to the ladder leading down to his room. Jack glanced at the ladder warily. “I could carry –“

“Over my dead body,” the Doctor interjected flatly.

“So how do you expect to get down there?”

The Doctor stepped away from him towards the entrance. “It’s rather simple, really.” He took several steps forward, grasped for the ladder, missed it completely, and fell onto the bedroom floor. He peered up at Jack, smiling brightly. “See?”

“You’re going to break your damn neck!” Jack growled, climbing down the ladder quickly and efficiently.

The Doctor shrugged and stumbled towards the bed. “I’d just regenerate.

Jack glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest for the tenth time since the Doctor’s unexpected arrival. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“It is a nice body, isn’t it?” the Doctor asked, kicking off his trainers and collapsing into Jack’s bed face first. Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

“Roll over,” Jack encouraged, sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging on the Time Lord’s shoulder until he turned on his side. “That’s better.” The Doctor gave him another carefree smile that Jack found he was getting used to far too quickly.

“Is there anything you need?” Jack asked.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, grinning mischievously before pulling Jack against him. Their lips clashed in a sloppy kiss, and Jack found himself kissing more of the Doctor’s nose than anything else.

“Mmph – Doct –mmph.” Jack pushed away gently, his hand resting against the side of the Doctor’s face. “Okay, what was that?”

“That was a snog. A kiss. A –“

“Yes, I know what it was, but you were kissing me.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across the Doctor’s cheekbone. “Why were you kissing me?”

“Jack, when there is a mutual attraction between two compatible –“

Jack growled, his eyes closing in frustration. Having a proper conversation with the Doctor was difficult on the best of days. Today Jack felt like he’d have better luck conversing with the Hub wall.

“I rarely do something I don’t want to do,” the Doctor added.

Jack tried to keep his thoughts focused as he stared into the Doctor’s brown eyes. “I thought I was wrong.”

“Well, you are wrong,” the Doctor explained, “and I was wrong to say that in the first place. We both know that two wrongs don’t make a right, after all. Somehow you being wrong feels right, and if feeling right is wrong then I don’t want to be right! Being right is overrated. I should know.” The Doctor tilted his head to the side. “Your jaw seems to have fallen from your face.”

Jack rubbed his free hand down his face. “What the hell did you just say?”

The Doctor sighed. “Why can’t you grasp this extraordinarily simple premise?”

“At least I can walk,” Jack replied.

“I wonder how long it took your species to master that amazing talent.”

Getting caught in the mood, Jack playfully bit the Doctor’s neck. “Watch it, you.” The Doctor twisted on his side giving Jack full access to his throat.

Swallowing hard, Jack stared at the Time Lord. “Doctor, are you sure about this?”

The Doctor caught his gaze again, long fingers wrapping around the back of Jack’s head drawing him close. “Why do you think I’m here?”

“You said you won a drinking contest. You were spouting off about wanting me to savor your triumph.”

The Doctor grinned, his voice dropping as he confirmed Jack’s suspicions. “Exactly.”

Jack groaned, his face dropping against the Doctor’s chest. “We’ve got to work on your puns.”

“I thought you would have got the hint! I didn’t think I could be any more obvious!”

Jack snickered, his head rolling to the side, playfully nipping the Doctor’s exposed collarbone. “This is a booty call.”

“A what?”

“Don’t be modest, Doctor,” Jack replied, bending down to undo the buttons on the Doctor’s shirt with his teeth. “You came here for a reason. So –“ Jack moved lower, his tongue flicking against the cool skin – “at what point during the evening did you decide you wanted this – wanted me?”

The Doctor raised his body, tipping his head back. “’Bout four years ago,” the Doctor replied with a moan. Jack froze, his tongue firmly stuck between his teeth.

“But that means –“

“Before I regenerated, yes.”

Again, Jack dropped his head against the Time Lord’s exposed chest. “You didn’t think about mentioning this little attraction sooner?”

The Doctor ran his hand through Jack’s hair. “What can I say? I’m an emotionally stunted Time Lord.”

Jack laughed. “Finally, we agree on something.”

“So where were we?” the Doctor asked, his eyebrow lifting in obvious invitation.

Jack pressed his hand against the back of the Doctor’s head, lifted him slightly, their lips meeting in a deep, leisurely kiss. The Doctor tasted of many things – of mint, of Time, and perhaps the slightly disconcerting hint of alcohol.

The Doctor unbuttoned Jack’s shirt with deft precision, his long fingers exploring the warm, muscular torso. Jack savored each twitch of the Doctor’s body, each finger that pressed roughly against his shoulders, each jerk of the Time Lord’s hips.

“Jack,” the Doctor moaned.

“What, Doctor?” Jack asked, his voice low and sultry.

“Your phone is ringing.”

“I love it when you talk – wait. What?”

“Your phone,” the Doctor repeated, attempting to untangle his legs from around Jack. “Could be important, alien invasions and all.”

“Oh, let them invade!” Jack growled, pressing his forehead against the Doctor’s.

The Doctor tilted his head so he could kiss Jack’s lips that were conveniently hovering just above his. “You don’t mean that.”

“No,” Jack sighed. “I don’t mean that.” He rolled off the bed, his fingers trailing across the Doctor’s chest as he went. “Hold that thought, okay? Give me two minutes.”

“Two minutes. Got it.” The Doctor rolled on his side so he could watch Jack climb the ladder. Curling his arms underneath his body, he settled down to wait.

Jack resisted the urge to toss the phone against the wall. “Torchwood,” he barked into the receiver.

“Jack!” Gwen yelled, causing Jack to hold the phone away from his ear. The obnoxious sounds of the pub filtered through the phone. “How’s your night going?”

“Somebody better be actively dying,” Jack stated. “What do you want?”

“Oh, hang on, Tosh wants the phone.” Jack heard the telltale signs of the phone dropping, and several people laughing over the loud music.

“Sorry about that,” Tosh apologized. “So how’s your alien friend?”

“He’s fine. We were in bed,” Jack said through clenched teeth. “What. Do. You. Want?”

“Oh, well, Ianto said we should show you the different between a social call and a –“

“I did not say that!” Ianto yelled, obviously grabbing the phone from Tosh. “Don’t listen to a word they’re saying. They’re all drunk – much like your friend. How’s that going by the way?”

“It was going fine!” Jack yelled. “I’m hanging –“

“One second, Owen wants the phone,” Ianto interjected.

Owen’s slurred voice echoed through the phone moments later, “Jack, mate, are you there?”

“What?” Jack growled.

“Why the hell are you standing there talking to me when your long lost Doctor is –“

“Goodbye, Owen,” Jack spat, slamming the phone down on his desk. He glared at the phone for several seconds before remembering who was tucked in his bed waiting on him. Jogging back to the ladder, he dropped several feet to the floor, smiling as he spun around.

“I’m back,” Jack said, stepping towards the bed. His face fell at once. “Oh no.”

The Time Lord’s eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling evenly as he softly snored against the pillow.

Jack couldn’t resist stating the obvious. “You’re asleep.” He reached out hesitantly, his fingers barely touching the Doctor’s cool cheek. “I’m going to have to a find a whole new team,” Jack continued quietly, “because I’m going to kill each one of them. Slowly.”

He glanced at the couch in the corner of the room before his eyes drifted back to the Time Lord. “Fuck it,” he murmured, crawling carefully onto the bed and settling behind the Doctor. The bed shifted under his weight, and as if drawn to the warmth, the Doctor rolled over, tucking his head underneath Jack’s chin.

“Night, Doctor.”

Part 3
Tags: doctor who, fanfic, scorched food, ten/jack, torchwood

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