Work Text:
Baiting
Earth, United North America (Norteamérica unida/L'Amérique du nord unie)
New Orleans
3333 C.E.
February
The Doctor might scoff at the notion (and did it magnificently), but Jack had once been a captain in a semi-military organization. As such, he knew how to plan an attack, bait a trap, lay an ambush, and devastate the enemy.
The fact that this particular campaign was to seduce the Doctor and Rose didn't change the underlying nature of a stratagem.
So when Rose dithered on where she wanted to go, and the Doctor crossed his arms and tapped his foot, Jack (who hadn't been consulted) offered up his personal opinion: Mardi Gras.
The year... he had to admit, that was just gratuitous fun.
"So... am I going to be flashing my tits, or what?" Rose bit her lip as the TARDIS landed, looking intrigued but uncertain about the notion. But a corner of her mouth curled up with cheeky amusement at the expression on the Doctor's face. It really was amazing how much expression she managed to convey with just her mouth.
Luckily, Jack was generally a cheerful guy, so neither of his traveling companions noticed the persistant grin on his face. He had to keep it under a certain amount of control; too much of the happy predator and the Doctor would get suspicious.
Plan A: get them all drunk and in the same bed was reluctantly discarded based on the fact that it was a cliche, and the fact that alcohol, while wonderful at reducing inhibitions, tended to have a bad effect on the ability to carry out on those reduced inhibitions. In humans, at least; Jack had no idea what a few beers might do to the Doctor's physiology. He had to bite the inside of his mouth -- hard -- to stop snickering at the idea. And then he had to bite the other side of his mouth to stop the physical reaction to the thought of finding out.
He did know for dead certain that he wanted them both at once. Aside from the challenge, aside from the "more the merrier"... with sex, there was always an element of power and control. The tension between Rose and the Doctor was thick enough to cut, shape, and rebuild the Pyramids with, but neither one had acknowledged or acted on it. To seduce one and not the other would disturb the balance that they were trying so hard to keep; it would ruin trust and wreck their camaraderie.
Both at once, or not at all. Well, he'd suffered worse fates. Somehow, he'd buck up.
"No, Rose, I don't think they'll drag you off to jail if you refuse to lift your shirt." The Doctor's voice was absent with a side of dry.
"Yeah, you just won't get any beads," Jack pointed out helpfully.
"Beads which can be purchased for pennies," the Doctor said in a careless tone.
"It's not the having, it's the getting," Jack said. ~And how.~ "It's all about ditching accustomed roles and acting crazy once in a while. A vacation from your mundane life, where nothing you do has consequences."
"So... if you spend all your time travelling from one Mardi Gras to another, how is it a holiday for you, then?" Rose asked with a sort of merry sarcasm.
"Hey," Jack protested, arms outstretched, the very picture of innocence. "I have consequences."
Rose's eyes fell before his, and when Jack turned the Doctor had dropped his studied nonchalance and was watching him steadily. Jack winced internally. He hadn't meant to bring a serious note to the party. He wanted to be charming and reckless in their eyes, not the guy who had risked his life and resigned himself to death to get rid of a bomb in the middle of London.
He talked fast to cover it, "Who said all I ever do is Mardi Gras? There's Carnivale, New Year's Eve in New-New York, the Silfium festival of the Eedikiks..."
Rose brought things back to the topic at hand. "We dress up, yeah?"
"I'm not wearing a costume," the Doctor said immediately.
~Predicted that one.~ "Don't worry, they won't throw you in jail for not wearing a mask," Jack shot back. The Doctor gave him a sardonic look, and Jack mimicked one back.
Rose laughed, and ran for the corridors that lead into the maze of the TARDIS outside of the control room. Hmmm. His quarry was splitting up. Standard tactics would be to pursue the more reluctant of the two -- which, given Rose's cheeky wink, would seem to be the Doctor -- but the psychological advantage of being alone with Rose while the Doctor wondered just what they were up to won out. "I'll see if they've got anything for me to wear."
"You could wear your flyboy uniform," the Doctor called. Oooo, catty Doctor. Must've been a direct hit, that. "That's enough of a bloody costume."
"Wool, in New Orleans? Even in February I'm not that masochistic. I'd much rather be a pirate." With a casual salute, Jack disappeared down the corridor following Rose.
When he found the wardrobe room, Rose was holding up a dress. The skirt was tiers of gold and silver tissue. The top was red velvet, except for over the breasts, which was a transparent mesh studded with silver and gold spangles.
~Score!~ thought Jack. Obviously, the TARDIS, sentient little critter she was, was helping him.
"I'm not wearing this," Rose said flatly.
"Why not? It would look charming on you."
"The top's... the top is... there *isn't* a top!" she spluttered.
"And this was the girl asking about showing her breasts?"
"I wouldn't have, *really*," Rose said. Despite her protestations, she was still cuddling the dress.
"You'll look like a goddess in it," a quiet voice said from the doorway. The Doctor was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. He'd done that unnerving thing where he'd gone deadly serious on them, but his eyes held a lambent glow.
Jack was beginning to get the sensation that things were slipping out of his control. "If she's the goddess and you are a Dark Lord, what am I?"
The Doctor smiled, a wide, wicked grin of delight. "The Trickster. Now, hush," he said. In one fluid movement, he crossed the room, took Jack's face in his hands, and kissed him.
Gently. Not a tease, but an invitation. The Doctor's hands were firm, his tongue, searching out nerve endings, was soft. They stayed like that, lips to lips, until Jack had lost all sense of up and down.
When Jack managed to get his eyes rolled forward, the Doctor was still holding him, bodies close enough to brush lightly. Rose was clutching the dress, cheeks pink and eyes wide. Without stepping a milimetre away, the Doctor freed one hand and held it out to her.
Lips parted, she glanced from the Doctor to Jack. Arousal and uncertainty warred in her expression. The Doctor had been hers -- in as much as they had been dancing (hah) around their attraction. Jack had been hers, in that she had found him and brought him into their lives. Would it be difficult for her to accept a "theirs"?
Whatever her worries, the dress slowly slid to the ground as she stepped forward and took the Doctor's hand. He brought her close, and the three of them were pressed together, arms tangling around each other in a very satisfying hug. With the Doctor's leather jacket pressed against one cheek and Rose's hair against the other, Jack took a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes, squeezing tighter.
Rose huffed a little laugh, her breast moving against Jack's side through the thin material of the t-shirts they wore. "I can't breathe," she said, pulling away just enough to tilt her face up. The Doctor cupped the back of her head and lowered his mouth to hers. Watching them kiss, the same gentle, devastating kiss the Doctor had given him, was like touching a bare wire.
Bare. Bare sounded like a good idea. But how were they going to manage it without letting go of each other?
Rose solved at least half the problem by tugging on the collar of the leather jacket the Doctor wore, trying to pull it down his arm from her side. Jack attacked the other side, and with a wry smile the Doctor dropped his arms and let them slide it down to pool on the ground. Underneath, the jumper was a dark navy, a thin wool sheath over the Doctor's skin.
Rose pulled back slightly as Jack stripped the jumper off over the Doctor's head. Not enough hair to tousle with its passage, to ruffle him and make him look as dazed as Jack felt. Jack turned when the Doctor's eyes focused on Rose, who was looking nervous. "We're doing this, yeah?" she asked.
Jack wanted to reassure her, convince her, seduce her into not thinking about it. But he held back, terrified of making the wrong move, of shattering the dreamlike world that was gathering around them.
The Doctor brushed the hair out of her face, cupping her cheek and letting one thumb trace her cheekbone. "Only if you want to."
Her eyes fluttered shut briefly, then she took a deep breath and pressed the Doctor's hand tighter against her cheek. She stepped forward again, arching against Jack's body and curling her hand behind his neck to bring his mouth down to hers. Her kiss wasn't the dark sorcery of the Doctor's, but a brilliant splash of light, illuminating, invigorating. When her head fell back limply, the Doctor supported it as Jack's lips slid down her throat, savoring her skin.
Jack pulled her tighter against him. Feeling a little out of control, he pressed his erection against her stomach. At his side, he could feel the Doctor's arms loop around their shoulders, the Doctor's mouth hot on his neck. And a hard pressure that confirmed that, whatever else he was, the Doctor had a very human-like reaction to stimuli.
Jack realized he'd stopped breathing and sucked in a lungful of air. "Bed. We're gonna need a bed. A really big bed."
Rose convulsed against him, laughing. "Oh, yeah. I don't think we're lasting long enough to find one."
"Lucky for us," the Doctor said, his voice still dry but slightly breathless, "we don't have that far to go." He gestured with one shoulder behind him. There was a pool of fabrics and pillows there.
"That wasn't there when I came in," Rose said.
"It is now. Don't argue."
Unwilling to let go of each other, they stumbled the few steps necessary to the bed so thoughtfully provided. They tumbled down awkwardly, laughing. Rose promptly put her head in the Doctor's lap (Jack didn't know which one he envied more) and her feet in Jack's. "How'd I get this end of the deal?" he demanded.
"Or that end of the Rose," she shot back.
Jack's revenge was immediate. He pulled off her trainers and her socks and dug his fingers into a precisely chosen spot on the sole of her foot. Rose squeaked in a really gratifying way, and her back arched.
"That's cheating," the Doctor observed.
Jack grinned, leaned over and kissed him quickly. "But satisfying."
Hauling a limp Rose up, Jack pulled her shirt over her head while the Doctor kept her from falling backwards. She, at least, looked tousled and flushed and thoroughly aroused. Her nipples were beaded tightly, visible through her bra, and Jack skimmed one finger down a strap. "Wear this all the time?"
"Never know when you'll have to run for your life," she said. She gasped when the Doctor unhooked it and slid it down her arms, reaching around to cup her breasts as he kissed her neck. She leaned back against him, eyes closed and neck arched, and Jack decided he really didn't like being the only one with a shirt on, and kicked his shoes off at the same time.
When he stood up to take off his jeans, the Doctor rose with him. Rose curled up and watched as the Doctor kissed him again, but not with the gentle deliberation of before. This was hotter, hungrier, and just about made steam billow out of Jack's ears. When he pulled back, the Doctor was breathing hard but seemed no more affected than that. Without breaking eye contact, his hands went to Jack's waist and unsnapped and unzipped his jeans, without making any particular effort to either avoid or caress what he was uncovering. The rush of blood to his newly-freed cock seemed to drain what little was left in his head, and Jack dropped back down to the bed. Rose straddled his hips and leaned down to kiss him.
"Now what?" she breathed into his ear. The fact that she was also nibbling on it made it hard to concentrate on her words. But he hadn't planned, schemed, and baited this trap for the purpose of being caught it in, and Jack made an effort to clear his head. He skimmed his mouth along Rose's neck and bit -- lightly -- at the juncture of her shoulder. "Get him," he whispered.
As one, they turned and pounced, rolling the Doctor over and over. Rose found a ticklish spot in his side and attacked it with wicked glee. The Doctor laughed like a wild thing, trying to beg her to stop but unable to get the words out. While Rose was so efficiently distracting him, Jack attacked the Doctor's belt and the zip of his trousers, dragging down the fabric, peeling his shoes and socks off with it. When Jack glanced up again, Rose was curled on her side by the Doctor's shoulder, her cheek resting on his forehead. They both were still giggling, but softly. The Doctor had one of her hands in his, the other one was sprawled out on the bed beside him limply.
Jack grinned. Starting at the Doctor's ankles, he skimmed his hands up his legs. Nice rangy body, a swimmer's or runner's muscles, smooth and long.
Jack kept his hands moving up steadily, not rushing. He was enjoying himself way too much. Particularly when he noticed that the Doctor's free hand had gone from limp to fisted tightly in the covers. Jack's hands reached the tops of the Doctor's thighs, avoiding his groin with seeming casualness. The Doctor groaned, "Bloody hell," and Rose giggled and lowered her mouth to his again.
Jack licked the pad of his thumb and slid it down the Doctor's erection, one long stroke from head to base. The Doctor's hips thrust upward helplessly, and Jack smiled again. Jack himself was crazy with lust, but he'd gone into a sort of high where he just coasted on the feeling. Getting relief too soon would ruin the fun.
For any of them.
Rose had slid farther down towards Jack, on her side with one knee hitched up onto the Doctor's hip. Somehow, when Jack wasn't looking, she'd skimmed out of her jeans. Smart girl. The Doctor's hand was smoothing over her waist. Jack saw an opportunity and took it, skating his hand up the inside of her exposed thigh, timing it so that his fingers tangled with the Doctor's. She moaned and curled tighter against the Doctor's side, while one of the Doctor's fingers slid inside of her and Jack teased swollen petals with just the tips of his own.
"Meanwhile, with my other hand," he muttered, and took the Doctor's cock into a firm grip, sliding up and down his length. The Doctor made incoherent sounds, not unlike the ones Rose was making, and simply surrendered, body balanced in an odd state between sexual tension and trustful relaxation. Jack eased his hand away and stretched out on top of the Doctor, linking his hands behind the Doctor's neck and kissing him, while his hips moved languidly, enjoying the sensation of flesh on flesh. Rose hooked one leg over his, pressing her quim to his thigh and rocking. She had her head buried against their necks, moaning slightly in the rhythm of her motions.
With the last of his strength, Jack managed to disentangle himself, although certain parts were very vocal about screaming, ~What the hell are you doing?~ Panting, he rolled to his knees, facing the other two. "No self-control, the lot of you," he said, trying for nonchalant and failing miserably.
The Doctor, who had lost any semblance of cool and detached a long time ago, still managed to raise a sardonic eyebrow. He nodded towards Jack's groin and Jack looked down to realize that he was absently palming his own cock. He snatched his hand away.
Rose laughed and slid over the sheets to him. With a dazzling smile, she leaned down and stroked his erection with her cheek, first one and then the other, before lightly flicking her tongue over the top. Gently, she lapped him, delicately probing with the tip of her tongue. Too delicately. He wanted something hard and hot, and her gentleness was going to drive him insane.
The Doctor knelt beside her and bent to kiss her neck while his hands slid around her torso to cup her breasts. Against his knees, Jack could feel the Doctor's hands brushing as they rubbed Rose's nipples. Jack planted his hands on the Doctor's shoulders and tried really, really hard not to thrust violently up into Rose's mouth. "Has anyone every told you, Doctor, that you have a truly great ass?"
Rose began laughing and her mouth tightened on him, the vibrations of her laughter almost ruining the last of Jack's control. "No, really," Jack persisted. "For such a skinny guy, it's nice and round and --" He cut off with a gasp as a hand -- he assumed Rose's since he thought the Doctor's were still on her breasts -- slid down and cupped his balls, caressing them.
Rose sat up, leaning back into the Doctor's arms and holding her own out to Jack. He took them, helped her balance as she rose up on her knees and rolled her hips, sinking slowly down onto the Doctor. Jack then moved forward into her arms, locking his own around both her and the Doctor.
Jack closed his eyes and rested his head across two shoulders. They were moving with subtle sort of pulsing motions, the only way to not shake anyone loose, and he felt everything, the warmth of Rose, the Doctor filling her, and the slight coolness of the Doctor's sacs, velvety-soft against Jack's tip.
Jack felt like he was underwater, drowning in a warm pool. Sensation everywhere, Rose's breasts against his chest, the Doctor's hands on his ass, lazy kisses traded back and forth.
Rose broke first, stiffening in their arms and her hips pushing, hard, as she cried out. Panting, she rode the waves until she went limp against them. Jack glanced up into the Doctor's eyes, which were hard and fierce on the edge of his own control. Jack figured that there wasn't any problem with losing control now, and just closed his eyes and let himself come, his orgasm shuddering through his body and seeming determined to wring him completely dry.
Still half-hard and thrusting lazily for the sheer pleasure of it, Jack kissed Rose as she made another small cry as the Doctor arched up hard into her. Jack watched with extreme pleasure as the Doctor's teeth gritted and the hammerblows of his own culmination shook him.
Later, in the dazed aftermath, they'd all rolled to a side of the bed that wasn't completely destroyed and lay curled up around each other. Jack pressed his lips to Rose's shoulder, and then, straining a bit, the Doctor's cheekbone. ~Mine,~ he thought, his heart clutching. It had been so long since he'd had anything that was his, really his.
The Doctor's eyes met his, and Jack fancied he read a similar thought. What was it like, to lose your whole world, and everyone you loved? Would he, Jack, have the strength to make new bonds if that happened to him?
Rose ran one hand down Jack's arm and sighed. Jack wanted to lean over and kiss her silly, just for being her. Being Rose, stubborn and sweet and spicy. Jack just wanted to hug them all, tight. The sex was great, the sex was fantastic, he wanted it as often as possible, but this was feeding his soul.
The Doctor yawned. "So, are we all going out or what? I mean, it is Mardi Gras out there."
Rose stretched luxuriously. "I'll go if Jack dresses like a pirate."
Jack considered. "I'll go if the Doctor wears a mask. I figure that's the most I can hope for," he said off of the Doctor's sarcastic look.
The Doctor held it for a few moments, then began to laugh. "I'll wear a mask," he said, "if Rose wears that dress." He pointed to the pile of gold and silver and red that Rose had found earlier.
Jack grinned and pulled Rose to her feet. "Well, then. Let the good times roll."
*******
END