redpearl (redpearl_cao) wrote,

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DW Fic: Cheap Tricks [Slash Ten/Jack Nine/Ten/Jack]

Disclaimer: Doctor Who doesn’t belong to me. I’m just borrowing the characters.
Date: 21/03/2010
Fandom: Doctor Who
Title: Cheap Tricks
Author: Red Pearl (redpearl_cao)
Beta: 51stcenturyfox
Genre: Slash
Character: Jack, Ten
Pairing: Ten/Jack, Nine/Ten/Jack
Rating: NC17
Warning: Explicit Sex.
Word count: 2,666
Summary: The Doctor are dreaming Jack's dreams, and it's all the TARDIS' fault!

Fest written for: wintercompanion's 2010 Doctor/Jack Fest
Prompt: While we're talking about multiple Doctors: A Nine/Jack/Ten sandwich, please.

Cross-posted to: doctorslashjack , dw_slash, galactic_conman, tenxjack, torchwood_decaf


Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden. Except for cheap tricks. - Smith and Jones

Cheap Tricks
By redpearl

They were just tinkering together around the console, and talking of nothing in particular, Jack was as outrageous as always, going on about the time he ran into himself, and had to hang off a balcony – naked of course - for three hours to avoid universal disaster.

“Good thing that’s never a problem for me,” the Doctor replied cheerfully, “Time Lords are protected from the Blinovitch Limitation Effect.”

“Really?” Jack looked very interested, “Does that mean you have touched yourself?” he smirked.

“Oi, get your mind out of the gutter!” the Doctor glared, although he wasn't really annoyed. He and Jack had just been travelling together for a few days; having been apart for so long, the Doctor was pleasantly surprised by how easily and comfortably they fitted together again.

It was nice, having someone in the TARDIS again, especially someone who is a dear old friend.

“Hey, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it! Who would know better what you like than yourself?”

Travelling with Jack again was nice, except Jack could be so Jack at times.

“So you never taking the TARDIS back in time to see yourself, just for fun?” Jack is persistent, when he’s being annoying.



“Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden,” the Doctor replied in a voice that said ‘you should know this.’

“Except for Time Lords, apparently,” there was a sort of wistfulness in Jack’s voice, which if the Doctor had listened carefully would have noticed, except he didn’t. Not really.

The dream started that night.

He come upon them in the middle of the night.

They’re naked and kissing, the kind of kiss only those who know each other thoroughly can share. It's understandable, seeing how they’re the same person. The Doctor, both Doctors, are drunk on the kiss, he had never seen that look of ecstasy on the Doctors’ face before. His first doctor looks up, blue eyes dark, piercing his soul with one look. The Doctor grunts, “what are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?”

The Doctor woke up.

The TARDIS liked Jack. The Doctor had always known that, even when Jack’s factness was like a scratch on the Doctor’s consciousness, the TARDIS still considered Jack to be one of her children. But when she waved the Doctor’s sleep-consciousness into Jack’s dream, he realised how trying that fondness can be.

‘Don’t do it again,’ he warned the TARDIS.

The dream bothered him. He had always known that Jack wanted him, was very fond of him, but knowing it and feeling it were very different things; invading Jack’s private thoughts like this made the Doctor feel very uncomfortable.

The next day the still-unbalanced Doctor found Jack in the wardrobe room, holding a familiar dark leather jacket. The Doctor’s entrance had startled Jack, and just for a second he seemed to be embarrassed. But Jack recovered quickly, swung the jacket around and put it on. “How do I look?” he asked, grinning.

The Doctor frowned, walking over and pulling the jacket off Jack. Their bodies brushing over each other, standing this close, the Doctor could smell the 51st century pheromones that Jack is so proud of, mixing with the leather of the jacket. Jack looked a little forlorn at the loss of the jacket. Unaccountably, the Doctor was exasperated.

“I’m still here!” he blurted out.

Surprised, Jack lifted his eyes from the jacket to the Doctor’s face. Whatever he found there made him smile faintly. “I know. I just… miss you… sometimes.”

And that made the Doctor feel like a cad for some reason; and made him want to do something to erase the sad look from Jack’s eyes. For a hundredth of a second he thought of taking Jack back in time to see his previous self. It was only a thought, and a quickly-banished one at that, but the Doctor was still disgusted with himself.

He huffed, turned and strode out.

The dream came again that night. As the Doctor lay sleeping in his bed, his mind was again tangled up in Jack's dream.

The Doctor’s lips are cool, but his mouth is warm, and the tongue that tangles with his is very, very agile. He thinks of asking if the story the Doctor told of reproduction by loom is true, because he can’t imagine a species with no sexual reproduction need would be so skillful, or maybe because they eliminated the reproduction need that they can concentrate on exploring sexual pleasure… A sharp bite on his lower lip brings back his attention as the Doctor licks along his neck, down his chest, nibbling at the sensitised nipple.

It’s annoying how good the Doctor is and how usually clumsy he feels. He had wanted this for so long, and now he behaves like an awkward teenager. Another body envelops his from behind; the cool skin gives its owner’s identity away. It’s the Doctor… his Doctor…. even if he could only call this man thus in his own mind.
The other Doctor is just as skillful as the first one, and the two sets of lips and hands are setting out to drive him crazy, although he had been crazy for a long time, ever since he met an impossible alien…

The sheets were twisted around the Doctor when he woke, sweaty and… aroused. It made the dream an even more uncomfortable occurrence than before. He threw a very cross rebuke at his beloved, senile, interfering ship, which didn’t put a dent to her amusement.

Before the dreams started, the Doctor had thought having Jack travelling with him had been a good idea. It had been nice to spend time with an old friend, someone who knew him well and didn’t expect more from him than he was willing to give. But now, the Doctor found himself aware of Jack in a completely different way than before.

They were working on the TARDIS again the next day. TARDIS is a wonderful ship for a Time Lord’s tinkering need, something can always be found in need of fixing, if you’re in the mood, and the Doctor often is. But today his attention kept diverting to Jack, as Jack stretched over the console, tight white T-shirt riding up revealing tanned skin, and the Doctor remembered biting down on that temping piece of flesh just the night before.

He is in so much trouble.

The dreams didn’t stop, and sometimes the Doctor wasn’t sure he wanted them to. The dreams were always a combination of the three of them: him, his previous self and Jack, and the Doctor found he could become jealous of himself.

Is that what you wanted, the three of us, or did you just want him? The Doctor wanted to ask Jack, but of course he never would. The uncertainty drove him to distraction, and shortened his temper, which had unfortunately been taken out on Jack, making Jack wary and uncertain around him, which in turn make the Doctor feel even worse.

The darkened room is permeated with the scent of sex, he’s in the middle of the undulating huddle of bodies, being driven wilder and wilder by his lover’s thrusts.

Falling back into the Doctor’s embrace, the normally cool skin hot with passion, the Doctor nips at his neck, sharply, then that dexterous tongue laps over the wounded skin. Jack gasps, then moans, then gasps again as a particularly hard thrust hits his prostate.

His other lover isn’t to be forgotten, forceful mouth enveloping his, swallowing his cries, stealing his breath, making his head swoon… But far too soon, the kiss ends and silent communication passes between his lovers.

Strong hands shift him, lifting his legs up, and the hard length inside him slips a little. A finger breaches his opening, seeking entrance from where he’s already joint with the Doctor, trying to open him up more impossibly wide than before. Jack bites off a pained gasp, eyes widened in shock, squirming at the sudden intrusion.

“Shhh…relax, lad,” his first Doctor soothes him, kissing him again, rubbing his strained thigh muscles, “relax and give yourself to me.” The blue eyes scorch into him with an intensity that Jack is powerless to resist. He nods, hopelessly lost before the immovable determination.

Another finger is added to the first, then another one, stretching him wider and wider, he feels exposed, naked in a way he had never been, then the fingers are removed and something even thicker pushes in, alongside the hard cock that’s already pulsing inside him, unmindful of the narrow passage, little by little, slowly, resolutely, invading him, claiming him by undisputable right.

Jack breathes in hollow, soundless gulps, head rolling back on the Doctor’s shoulder. He almost doesn’t notice the hot breath beside his ear, and the small kisses being darted on his tender skin. He's being speared apart, and it hurts, but it’s such a good hurt, like an empty vessel that’s finally being filled, and filled to overflow, the pressure too much, too intense, and he’s breaking apart, exploding into a million, a billion atoms…

But it’s worth it, just this moment of completeness, worth all the hurt in the universe…

The Doctor woke up, hearts beating far too rapidly, and body tense for completion, but he had been used to waking up in this state for a while now, and quickly sorted himself out.

He decided it’s time to have a heart to heart with the TARDIS, ‘You have to stop this.’

The TARDIS ignored him.

‘It’s not going to work. I’m not going to jump his bones just because you showed me all his sex fantasies!’

There was no answer.

‘So he wants me! He wants everyone! Just last week he went off with that tri-breasted hermaphrodite Xainithian! He’s completely at the mercy of his hormones. It doesn’t mean anything!… buuuut that’s not the point! The point is -’ the Doctor paused, finding it a little hard to remember what the point was. ‘Just because he wants me doesn’t mean I have to want him back. Because I don’t. Want him back, that is.’

The TARDIS still ignored him, but this time there was thoughtfulness to it, that had all of the Doctor’s senses on edge.

That night’s dream proved he was right to be suspicious.

Jack’s eyes are impossibly wide, pupils dilated, looking at him as though he's seeing both heaven and hell at once, those delicious lips mindlessly seeking his. He drives into the tight and welcoming body with even more vigour, velvet heat surrounding his cock, squeezing him like a vise, the other cock sliding beside him providing a different kind of friction; he’s melting inside of Jack - the most wonderful and terrifying sensation he’s ever felt…

The Doctor had tried to be reasonable with the TARDIS, but the TARDIS clearly wasn’t in a reasonable mood. Tying the Doctor into Jack’s dream had been an intrusion, but tying Jack into the Doctor’s dream was just plain rude.

‘Stop it,’ the Doctor told the TARDIS sternly.

The TARDIS was unimpressed, not that the Doctor expected anything else. Jack never paid him heed when he said that either.

Annoyed, he got up, since he obviously wasn't going to get any more sleep, he might as well get some work done. Putting on his clothes, the Doctor left the bedroom, but not before the TARDIS sent him one last image of Jack -- who had also woken up -- and the surge of loneliness the other man felt awakening to an empty bed.

The sheet have falling down to his waist during sleep. The room is dark, but there is a moon-like light coming from one side of the room. Jack sighs, turns and buries his face in the pillow, the dim light stroking along his naked spine…

The Doctor was seriously ticked with the TARDIS; there seemed to be no end to her meddling. It wasn’t enough to fill his dreams with the over-active imagination of Captain Jack Harkness, night after night, now she wasn't giving him any peace when he was awake either.

‘So I want him,’ there didn’t seem to be any point in dispute that anymore. ‘But he doesn’t want me, not really. He wants the other me! Didn’t you notice the dreams were all about ‘him’? I was just like – like – a living dildo! There to make things more interesting!’

Now the TARDIS’ silence had an ‘are you stupid’ quality to it.

‘OK, maybe he doesn’t just think of me as a sex tool…’ the Doctor back-pedaled. It wasn’t a fair charge, and he knew it. ‘I know he likes me…fond of me at least….maybe more than fond… and maybe I’m a little fond of him too, but that doesn’t mean anything needs to happen, does it? It’s better for everyone if nothing happens.’

Aimlessly wandering the corridor, arguing with his ship, the Doctor lost track of where he was going.

‘It’s better because if nothing happens, then nothing can stop happening.’

Turning an corner, the Doctor belatedly realised that Jack had decided to forgo sleep as well – and the TARDIS didn’t see fit to inform him of that! – instead it bought him to the corridor where Jack was.

Jack was leaning against the wall, tiredly rubbing his eyes, with sleep-mussed hair and wearing only an pair of old running trousers, and the Doctor found his eyes slide down to where they were riding low on Jack’s hips. He scolded himself, glancing up again. Jack looked weary, like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time. Still, at the sound of the Doctor’s approach he looked up and smiled.

It was not Jack’s best smile, not the charming, bright grins that make the Doctor's pulses quicken and lift his hearts up. It was a small, intimate smile, a little tired, a little apologetic, but at the sight of it, the knot in the Doctor’s chest that he hadn’t been aware was there loosened. Life was suddenly full of possibilities.

“I’m not going to take you back in time just you have could have sex with both of me!” were the first words out of his mouth.

Huh? Jack looked at him confusedly, but the Doctor didn’t care. He strode towards Jack, the way a warrior might stride towards his dragon, except in this case the dragon was also his princess. Cupping Jack’s face, looking into Jack’s eyes, the Doctor was on a roll, “Just to make it clear, I’m not going to cross my own timeline – and yours – just so you can have sex with both us at the same time.”

Jack’s eyes widened, flushing, tongue darting out to wet his lips. The Doctor’s eyes caught at the gesture. Jack’s lips looked pink, moist and kissable.

So he did.

Jack was a quick study, after the initial shock, he returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm and more than equal skill, tongues stroking, caressing. Soon nothing else existed except for the lips on lips, the heat of the other’s mouth. Eventually, the kiss broke, because even a Time Lord had to breathe sometimes. The Doctor coughed, “so no crossing timelines. Is that clear?”

Jack swallowed, looking dazed. “Perfectly.”

The Doctor nodded, “Good. Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden, except for cheap tricks.”

Then he kissed Jack again, and this kiss was just as perfect as the last one, and he could have kissed Jack like this forever, standing in the corridor, until the end of the time. At the back of his mind flickered a picture, the three of them in one bed, loving and being loved, but the image was gone before he could examine it.

Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden. Except for cheap tricks.

And maybe some fantastic sex.

The End.

Tags: fic: doctor who/torchwood, fic: doctor/jack, fic: slash/yaoi, my fic

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