Title: Only the Beginning
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: R
Table: 2
Prompt: 24, Frustration
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

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Jack turned over in bed for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. A long, lonely, sleepless night. Just like every other night had been since he'd revealed his feelings for the Doctor. Yes, there had been a few nights when he'd been able to sleep with the Time Lord curled into his arms, but those had been few and far between.

He sighed, turning over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't blame the Doctor for being reluctant to consummate the strange relationship they had. After all that he'd been through in the past, it was hard for him to trust any man. He'd been betrayed so often, physically and emotionally, that his issues were practically written in stone.

But this was different, a little voice piped up in the back of his mind. He was the Doctor's companion, for god's sake. Not just his companion, but the man who loved him. He wasn't going to leave the Doctor like all the others had in the past. And he wasn't going to hurt the Time Lord in any way, either emotionally or physically.

Besides, unlike every other companion, he had forever to give. Jack didn't know if he could die, but at this point, he was willing to bet that he couldn't. That gave him a distinct advantage over anyone who the Doctor had chosen to be his companions before. They had all known they were cursed with a finite life span. He didn't have that worry; he'd be able to stay with the Doctor for as long as the Time Lord wanted him there.

Jack turned onto his side again, picturing the Doctor in his mind's eye. He'd be lying in bed now, his body bare beneath the sheets, probably turned on his back, hair tossed against the pillow, one arm thrown out to the side .... the covers sliding down his bare shoulder when he turned over, moving still lower to reveal more of that perfect body ....

The immortal groaned, punching the pillow in frustration. Every night for the past week had ended up the same way. The Doctor saying a quiet good night in the control room, heading off to the room designated as his, making it silently but firmly obvious that he wasn't in need of companionship in his bed. Shutting Jack out as completely as if he'd slammed a door irrevocably in his face.

Things couldn't go on like this, he told himself, turning onto his stomach and morosely contemplating the shelf above his bed. Eventually, his 51st-century mating drive would kick in. It had happened before -- but his partners had always had a warning when it had. Even if the Doctor knew about that, he'd still probably be taken unawares when it happened -- and Jack knew that the results could be disastrous.

He'd never raped anyone before, but his desire for the Doctor was flaring dangerously high. If their relationship kept going on as it was, the thin line of sexual tension between them was going to snap, probably at a bad time. And he would end up forcibly taking the Time Lord out of frustration and anger, not out of love.

Jack could picture exactly how it would go. It didn't matter how he took the Doctor -- in bed, on the floor, against the wall, bent over something. It would have the same inevitable end. Any way it happened, it would destroy the fragile trust that the Time Lord was building, send the Gallifreyan running back behind the walls that were slowly beginning to crumble.

He didn't want that to happen. He wanted the first time he made love to the Time Lord to be at the Doctor's request, something that the other man wanted, not something Jack took from him. He couldn't bear to think of the reproach and the fear that would hide behind the Time Lord's dark eyes every time the Doctor looked at him.

No. The Doctor had felt that fear too often in the past. He covered his emotions up very well, but Jack could tell that under the calm, cool exterior, there was a lonely, unhappy little boy beneath the veneer of the capable man. A little boy who desperately needed to be loved and cherished and taken care of.

The problem was, how could he convince the Time Lord that they needed to make love? It wasn't as though he could bring up the subject and sound completely casual about it. If he even mentioned it, the first thing the Doctor would think was that he was only trying to maneuver the Time Lord into bed. That was certainly what it sounded like.

Jack sat up, rubbing his eyes and swinging his long legs out of the bed. He had to go to the Doctor, talk to him, make him understand the situation. It wasn't that he only wanted to have sex with the Time Lord, he argued to himself, trying to push down the little voice that insisted he was thinking with his cock and not his mind, that he was being selfish at the Doctor's expense. He wanted to protect the other man from any future dangers.

But making love to the Doctor now wasn't going to stop him from taking the Time Lord when the mating drive had him in its grip, that voice whispered with dogged determination. It would just make it all the easier for him to rationalize his actions if he tried to force the Doctor into something he didn't want.

At least he could talk to the Time Lord about the situation, Jack told himself firmly, pushing that little voice away. If he woke the other man up, then so be it. This was something that needed to be discussed -- now, before his frustration started to mount and he took his feelings out on the unsuspecting Doctor.

Could he trust himself to slip into the same bed with the Doctor and not try anything with the other man? Jack hesitated for a moment, finally sighing and running a hand through his hair. He'd have to be careful, hold himself back. It would be all too easy to overpower the Doctor and force him to submit; the Time Lord was more physically frail than Jack had expected. And forced submission wasn't at all what he wanted.

No, he wanted the Doctor to come to him willingly. He wanted to the Gallifreyan to want him as much as he wanted the other man. He could hold back his desires, for the Doctor's sake, Jack told himself fiercely, wanting to believe his own words. There would be no rape, no force, no coercion. When he took the Doctor, he would be gentle, loving; it would be making love, not merely having sex.

He padded down the corridor that led from his sleeping quarters to the Doctor's, bare feet making only a whisper of sound on the floor. He'd memorized how many steps it took to get to that arched doorway long ago; how many times had he stood there, just outside that room, his body aching for the man just on the other side of that threshold? But he'd never acted on those feelings. Somehow, it hadn't seemed to be quite the right time.

Maybe it still wasn't the perfect time. But Jack knew that he'd avoid much more serious complications later if he tackled the subject now. Even if the Doctor was asleep, Jack had to wake him so they could talk. This wasn't something that could wait; if he waited, the nascent relationship between the two of them could be damaged beyond repair.

Jack entered the room where the Doctor slept, making his way to the bed and looking down at the slumbering Time Lord. He looked so young when he slept, Jack thought, seating himself carefully on the bed and reaching out to brush his knuckles against the Doctor's smooth cheek. It was hard to believe that this man had been around for over 900 years.

The Time Lord looked so innocent, so peaceful. Jack almost didn't want to wake him up; he could have sat there and watched the Doctor sleep forever, his eyes drinking in every detail of that face, the face that haunted his dreams, the face that he couldn't stop sneaking covert glances at when they were in the same room together.

He was perfect, Jack thought silently, unable to resist leaning over and pressing his lips against the softness of the Doctor's parted lips. If he could have created anyone specifically made for him, to fit every fantasy, every specification he'd ever had for the partner he wanted, the Doctor would be it. He wouldn't change a thing.

Jack leaned over the other man, reluctant to reach out and shake him into consciousness. His hand hovered over the Doctor's shoulder, pulling back when the Time Lord opened his eyes and blinked a few times, focusing on him with a frown. He held out a hand to keep the Doctor from sitting up, equally reluctant to bring himself into contact with the Gallifreyan's bare skin.

"Jack?" The Doctor sounded worried, his voice hushed and raspy from sleep. "What is it? Is something wrong? Why are you here?"

The immortal shook his head, finally placing a hand on the Doctor's shoulder and holding him against the pillow. He could feel the Time Lord's muscles tense, then relax; yes, it would be ridiculously easy for him to overpower this man and have his way with him. He had to put that thuoght out of his mind, no matter how tempting it was.

"Nothing's wrong. Don't worry," he said softly, settling himself more comfortably on the bed. "I'm just here to talk. I thought we needed to, considering some of the things that are going to be happening in the near future. I want you to understand just what you're going to be facing, so you'll be able to deal with it when it happens."

The Time Lord nodded, turning onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow. Jack tried not to notice that the sheets slid down the Doctor's body, exposing more of that silken skin than was safe for him, given Jack's present state of mind. It was obvious that the Doctor was naked under the covers -- a fact that Jack definitely didn't need to dwell on.

"I suppose you mean your mating instincts," the Time Lord said, his long, elegant fingers plucking nervously at a corner of the blanket that Jack was sitting on. "Don't look so shocked," he said in answer to the other man's raised eyebrows. "I've been to your time enough to know quite a few things about 51st-century men and their biological needs."

Jack sighed, looking down at the blanket, unable to meet the Doctor's gaze. "Yes. And if you know about that, then you know what kind of situation you could be in, if that instinct starts to kick in and I can't control it. I'm not going to subject you to that, if I can help it."

The Doctor shrugged, looking away and swallowing audibly. "It's nothing, Jack. If that's what you need me for, then feel free. It's not as though I haven't been used in that way before. It doesn't make much difference one way or the other."

"Yes, it does!" Jack's voice was sharp and indignant. "Do you honestly think I'd hurt you like that? I've kept myself away from you all this time because I'm terrified of doing something to you that you don't want. I'm not going to destroy whatever trust you have in me just to fulfill some goddamn biological imperative. It's not worth losing your trust."

"It isn't you, Jack." The Doctor's voice was hoarse, the words rasping as if they were caught in his throat. "It's what you have to do. I understand that. I won't hold it against you."

"I'll hold it against me." Jack made an effort to keep his voice down, not wanting this to turn into an argument. "If I did anything to hurt you, I could never forgive myself for it. And it would ruin our chances of having anything in the future. That's a chance I don't want to give up. Not if there's any hope we could be .... closer."

The Doctor's eyes met his for a quick moment before the other man looked down, sighing softly, studying his splayed fingers intently as if they were the most fascinating thing he'd ever laid eyes on. "You'll eventually want more and more, Jack. Everyone always does. They push for what I can't give, and it all eventually falls apart when they leave. Being intimate isn't going to make a difference."

"It will if you give me a chance," Jack whispered, reaching out to cup the Doctor's chin and tilt the Time Lord's face up to his. "I know you trust me in a lot of ways. And I'm --" He swallowed, the next words almost painful for him to say. "I'm not asking you to trust me with your heart. I wouldn't expect you to do that. But at least give me the chance to give you some pleasure during the time we're together."

The Doctor looked away, a soft, bitter laugh coming from his throat. "My pleasure hasn't ever been a requirement for anyone. There's no reason for it to be now."

"For me, it is." Jack couldn't keep himself away from the Doctor after those words. He'd felt his heart break a little at the tone of the Doctor's voice; it was as though the Time Lord had long ago resigned himself to staying behind walls, holding the rest of the universe at arm's length. It only made Jack more determined to break down those walls.

He reached for the other man, turning onto his side and pulling the Doctor into his arms before the Time Lord could move away. The Doctor's body tensed in his arms for a few seconds; his breath hitched in his throat, a tremor passing through him before he finally relaxed and let Jack move gentle hands down his back.

"I ...." The Doctor's voice broke; Jack threaded long, slender fingers through the Time Lord's soft hair, letting the other man rest his forehead against his shoulder. The Doctor had sounded suspiciously near to tears, and Jack wanted to give him a chance to get his emotions under control before he continued to speak.

"Shhh, it's all right," he murmured, forcing himself to keep his hands above the Doctor's waist. No touching him any more intimately than that, he told himself sternly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He needed to show the Time Lord that he could control his urges, that there was no reason not to let that fragile trust develop into something more. Something that would last, something that would grow into a deeper bond than either of them could imagine.

"Don't love me, Jack," the Doctor whispered, his face pressed against the immortal's shoulder, his words slightly muffled. "Everyone who loves me ends up leaving me. I don't want to lose you like all the others. I don't want to tear my hearts out again when I have to say goodbye."

"The others didn't have forever to give. I do," Jack said softly, tilting the Doctor's face upwards again, using the soft pads of his thumbs to brush away the tears that were starting to track down the Time Lord's pale cheeks. "Doctor, that isn't the issue. The issue is you letting me get behind those walls of yours. You have to learn to put your trust in me, or what we have is going to die before it even gets started."

"No," the Doctor mumbled, shaking his head, more tears escaping before Jack could wipe them away. "I won't let that happen. Just .... do what you have to do, Jack. I can't help you. I don't know what I should do. Those walls have been in place for so long that I don't know how to let you in."

"Just trust me," Jack whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the Doctor's face, tasting the salty tang of tears on his lips. "Don't be afraid to let those walls fall down. Trust me. And let me love you. Let me prove to you that you don't have to be afraid."

The Time Lord closed his eyes, swallowing convulsively and finally nodding in assent. Jack wrapped his arms around the slender man, drawing the Doctor close against his own body, his hands moving down over the Gallifreyan's hips, resting there and making no move to explore the more sensitive areas of his body.

"Are you .... are you going to ....?" The Doctor's voice was low, trembling, fearful. Jack couldn't imagine what he must have been through in the past to put that kind of fear into his voice, into his eyes. That was what he was up against. Something that had hurt the Doctor so badly that he'd had no choice but to retreat into himself.

He was going to fight it, whatever it was. And he was going to win. The Doctor was his, dammit. He wasn't going to let some unknown fear claim the man he loved, not without one hell of a fight. And if there was one thing Jack was good at, it was fighting dirty. He'd use every trick in the book to win this battle, no matter what it took.

"No, I'm not. Shhh, don't be afraid." Jack settled them against the pillows, pressing his lips against the Doctor's forehead and pulling the covers up around the other man's bare shoulders. "I'm just going to lay here and hold you tonight. And tomorrow morning, you're going to wake up in my arms. Tomorrow morning, and every morning from now on."

"I think I could learn to live with that," the Doctor whispered, his eyes closing as he moved a little closer to the immortal. "Good night, Jack."

"Good night, sweetheart," he whispered, barely breathing the words. He thought he could detect a small smile curving the Doctor's lips, a realization that brought a smile to his own face in return.

It was a beginning. Only a beginning. But it was a good one. A beginning they could build on, and, if they were lucky, one that could grow into something more than either of them had ever dreamed possible.

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