Title: Christmas Spirit
By: Consternatio
Pairing: Nine/Jack
Rating: NC-17
Note: This fic is my Christmas present to (and has been kindly beta'd by) Blondboy, who is doing a great job of not only inspiring my smut!bunnies, but aso challenging me and making me think more about the characters and the things I write. Keep up the good work.
Disclaimer: All Characters belong to BBC, Russell T. Davies and various others. I make no money from this.
Summary: Jack's plans for a private Christmas celebration with the Doctor go a little awry.

***

The TARDIS is home for Christmas. Or, more accurately, the TARDIS has brought Rose home, for Christmas.

Jack has never really had much time for such a fringe holiday before, but as ever, Rose's enthusiasm is catching, and Jack has found himself dragged out on more shopping trips than he would have thought possible. Jack has never experienced anything even remotely like Christmas shopping in the centre of London. He can't decide whether he's more frustrated, or bemused by the whole thing. He is pretty sure that Rose only brought him along, at least at first, to carry the bags. Rose had managed to persuade the Doctor to come with them once, but when they had finally got back to the TARDIS, the Time Lord had refused to *ever* go shopping with them again. Considering the Doctor's obvious soft spot for Rose, Jack surmises that the shopping trip was akin to the worst kind of torture as far as the Doctor is concerned.

Jack has actually come to enjoy it. He's not bothered by the actual shopping, but he likes the times when he and Rose break off, and sit, drinking coffee, or eating lunch, and watch the rest of the world pass by. Jack flirts, Rose flirts back, Jack makes up outrageous life histories for the people that Rose points out, and Jack feels, just for a moment, like the carefree con-man he once was. He'd almost forgotten how funny, and attractive Rose is, even more so because she is so genuinely unaware of her appeal. If Jack wasn't so sure that the Doctor would be pissed off, and the fact that, whilst it wouldn't be the first time Jack had pursued a relationship with both people in a couple (though none so determinedly platonic as the Doctor and Rose), he suspects that in this situation, seducing Rose would be a really, really bad idea. There's a balance between the three of them and it works just fine, but Jack's been around enough to know that it wouldn't take much to unbalance it.

Besides, Jack's far too intrigued with the Doctor, and far, far too caught up in the ongoing, unacknowledged affair with the Time Lord to seriously consider trying to tempt Rose into his bed. Though, he has to admit that the thought of having both of his companions in his bed is one he's indulged in on more than one occasion.

It's Christmas Day, and Jack has just returned to the TARDIS, after Christmas lunch spent with Mickey glaring at him, and Rose's mother flirting with him. He'd enjoyed it, but he's glad to get back to the peace and quiet of the TARDIS. Jack understands why, no matter how hard Rose had tried, the Doctor had refused to join them for lunch. He'd even agreed to let Rose wind some tinsel around the control room, rather than leave the TARDIS. Jack grins at the incongruous decorations, and realises that he is, ever so slightly, drunk. Being drunk always makes Jack horny, and knowing that Rose won't be coming back to the TARDIS tonight, Jack decides he and the Doctor should spend the time indulging in some festive celebrations of their own. Jack grabs a ribbon that Rose had tied around one of the struts in the control room, wraps it around his neck, and heads off to find the Doctor, smirking at the thought of insisting that he's the Time Lord's present to be unwrapped. He's brought a bottle of bubbly back with him, at Rose's insistence — she'd wanted him to make sure the Doctor at least made a show of celebrating Christmas with someone, though Jack could see she was a little hurt that the Doctor has chosen not to spend any of the day with her.

Jack bumps into the Time Lord, quite literally, in one of the corridors. There is a brief moment of stumbling and confusion, then Jack has the Doctor pinned against the corridor wall, teeth clashing as the Doctor meets him in an almost brutal kiss. It seems that Jack isn't the only one in the mood for partying.

The trip to Jack's room is accomplished more by luck than judgement, and Jack knows that one of them will have to be up early in order to collect the clothing that mark their path along the ship's corridors, before Rose returns. Jack couldn't care less though. The thrill of seeing the Doctor out of control still as visceral as it was the first time he'd seen it.

Jack has no idea how long it takes them to end up in his room, all he can remember later is the sensation of aggressive kisses; of clothes being removed; of hands sliding over skin. They could have bounced off the walls all the way, and Jack is pretty damned sure he wouldn't have taken a blind bit of notice. Somehow they end up on Jack's bed, naked, save for the ribbon still around Jack's neck.

Jack wraps his arms around the Doctor's neck, revelling in the rush of lust and deciding that they really should find more holidays to celebrate this way. A *lot* more. When the Doctor pulls Jack's hands away, and presses them into the bed above Jack's head, a small shiver of trepidation runs through Jack, though he ignores it, concentrating instead on the feel of the Doctor's skin against his. The moment the Doctor pulls the ribbon from Jack's neck, and wraps it around Jack's wrists, the trepidation turns into a cold knot of fear. The Doctor's quick, and before Jack can move, his hands are knotted. Jack panics, arousal swamped by dread he doesn't understand.

The next few minutes are a terror filled blur of struggling and kicking. Jack can hear, dimly, the Doctor speaking; concern and confusion obvious, but Jack can't think about anything but getting his hands free.

The first time hands try to help, he slaps and scratches them, too frightened to comprehend that they're trying to help. The second time, the hands are less gentle, and for a moment, Jack freezes, and by the time he's capable of moving again, his hands are free.

Jack can hear the harsh sound of himself panting, feel the cold sweat, the residual horror, the faint trembling that he can't control. He's never lost it like that before, and it scares him almost as much as being bound did. He shifts until he can sit, knees bent in front of him, arms resting on his knees, staring in bewilderment at his wrists, rubbed red from his struggles against the ribbon.

He doesn't want to look up. Doesn't want to see what the Doctor's reaction to his freak out is. Especially doesn't want to discuss it. He knows he can't avoid it though. Freaking out just because your lover decides to try a spot of playful Christmas bondage is not something that can be ignored. Jack wonders if he'd feel better if he *knew* why he'd gone so unexpectedly psycho.

Jack can sense the Doctor watching him, waiting for him to get himself together. Finally, he can't stand the silence any longer, and looks up.

The Doctor looks worried, confused, and even a little scared. Jack can't really blame him, he's feeling pretty much the same himself. Jack would give anything, right now, to be able to travel back in time about half an hour, and start this whole thing over.

"Jack?"

There's a whole host of questions lurking behind that single word, questions that Jack doesn't have the answers to.

"I don't know." His voice sounds hoarse, rough, and Jack has a vague recollection of shouting when he was trying to free his hands. He shivers, chilled inside and out.

He can see that the Doctor can read the unspoken answers to the unasked questions. Jack doesn't realise he's shaking until the Doctor reaches out, slowly and cautiously, and takes Jack's hands in his own, fingers curling over Jacks, thumbs rubbing gently on the backs. The touch is soothing, without being patronising or pitying. Jack guesses that if anyone would understand, it would be this man.

"The Time Agency." It's not a question, but Jack nods anyway, distracted by the flare of anger in the Time Lord's eyes. He doesn't need to remind the Doctor that he's missing around two years of his life, and that whatever triggered his earlier panic, the actual memory is lost, possibly forever. Jack wonders, bitterly, what other phantoms he's unknowingly carrying around with him. He drops his eyes to their joined hands, not wanting the Doctor to see that a small part of him is secretly delighted with the indicated that he too can evoke the Doctor's protective streak.

"Yeah" He lets a sigh escape "sorry". He really means it, he's sorry for scaring them both, sorry for ruining the mood.

The Doctor gives a half shrug "Not your fault".

"First time I've ever managed to wreck a mood *quite* so badly"

The Doctor laughs, a quick, surprised sound.

"For once Jack, I believe you"

Jack grins, and closes his eyes, his agitation slowly seeping away. The good natured banter is familiar, comfortable, and it drives away some of the discomfort.

He starts when the Doctor gently pulls his hands away. Jack wonders if this is when the Time Lord makes his excuses and leaves. Jack wouldn't blame him if he did.

"I'll be back in a minute". Jack can't help watching the Doctor's naked arse as he leaves the room, still completely unbothered by his nudity. Jack's not sure whether he's found the mood again, but with a view like that, he doubts it'll take long. Jack is firmly of the opinion that sex can pretty much improve any situation. Panic attacks notwithstanding. Sex is something familiar, reassuring, comforting. Jack's just not so sure that the Doctor always feels the same way.

Jack's mood is much improved by the view he gets when the Doctor returns, carrying the bottle of champagne and two pint glasses. Jack can't help but chuckle, and he guesses, from the pleased grin on the Doctor's face, that the choice of drinking vessel was chosen with that in mind.

When they both have a glass of champagne, the Doctor sits at the foot of the bed and looks at Jack.

"You can ask, Doctor"

"Actually, I wasn't going to."

Jack is surprised, though he thinks he really shouldn't be. The Doctor, for all his apparent disdain for humans, can be remarkably perceptive. Jack is smart enough to know that this isn't the end of this conversation, though he's more grateful that has can express that the Doctor isn't going to press the point now. Jack had been bitter about what the Time Agency had done to him before this. Now, he hates them.

"I was going to ask how Christmas lunch went, though. I'm surprised you didn't show up back here with a Jackie-shaped limpet attached to you"

Jack laughs, the champagne is pretty awful, but the buzz of the cheap alcohol, the sight of the Doctor sprawling over his bed, help chase away the final, lingering, sense of distress.

Jack knocks back the glass of champagne, putting the glass down on the floor, then watches the Doctor drink from his glass; eyes trailing over the Time Lord's throat as he swallows, moving down over the Doctor's chest, down to his belly, eyes following the trail of dark hair from his navel, down to the cock that's just beginning to stir. Jack can feel his own arousal climb at the Doctor's very obvious reaction to Jack's scrutiny. Jack can still feel the tension in the room, but now it's very definitely sexual.

There's something erotic about watching the way the Doctor's pupils dilate as Jack crawls, on all fours, across the bed towards him. When he reaches the Time Lord, Jack rests his hands on the foot board of the bed, either side of the Doctor. The Doctor is still, clearly intent of letting Jack set the pace. Jack doesn't want to be treated as though he's fragile. The Time Agency have stolen two years of his life; he'll be damned if they're going to spoil this for him.

"I'm not going to break Doctor" Jack watches the understanding in the Doctor's eyes, then Jack kisses him. Despite his words, the kiss starts off gentle, but Jack's too strung out, emotions still wound too tightly for it too stay that way for long.

Jack hears the Doctor drop his glass; then there's a hand on the back of his neck, and another on his arse, and Jack somehow clambers into the Doctor's lap, pressing as close to the Time Lord as he can get. Jack's never found anything better than the feel of skin against skin to drive out his demons, to light the dark places of his soul. To share this with the Doctor, the only person Jack has ever found who not only understands, but has even more dark places than Jack himself is beyond anything Jack could have asked for.

Long, strong fingers trail between Jack's buttocks, and the Captain can't help but shiver in arousal. The touch is light, but the intent is so undeniably sexual that Jack can't help but react to it. Jack reluctantly pulls his mouth away from the Doctor, thanking his flexibility as he leans backwards without moving from the Doctor's lap, hand grasping for the bottle sitting on the bedside table, the Doctor's hands shifting to support Jack as he sits back up.

Jack waves the bottle in front of the Doctor's face, and the Time Lord grins. Jack leans back a little again, opens the bottle, and lets a few drops of the lube drip onto his cock. The Doctor's hand is stroking him almost immediately, and the smooth, firm strokes make Jack arch, and hiss between his teeth. The Doctor's grip is nearly tight enough to be uncomfortable, even with the slick lotion, but it's just the way Jack likes it.

The Doctor takes the bottle from Jack's hand, without losing the rhythm of his other hand on Jack's cock. He lets a little drip onto his own cock, and Jack doesn't wait to be asked before his hand is stroking the Doctor with the same grip and the same timing as the Doctor is using on him. The Doctor's stroking falters, just for a second, but the physical evidence that he is able to distract the Time Lord is still as gratifying as ever.

Jack should have known though; the Doctor is among the most competitive people Jack has ever met, and he always has to have the last word. The slick finger slides into Jack without warning, causing Jack to swear profusely, which merely makes the Doctor laugh. Jack isn't interested in slow and drawn out though. He needs something more physical, more carnal.

"Stop messing about. Just fuck me alright?" Jack squeezes the Doctor's cock, just enough to emphasis his point. The Doctor's back arches, and he gasps and it's really not helping Jack's restraint at this point. He has to fight the urge to squeeze again, because there's something really arousing about seeing the Doctor react like this. Jack reminds himself that the ultimate aim here is to get the Doctor to fuck him.

"OK Captain" And damn it all if the sound of the Doctor's voice, all breathy and low doesn't send another surge of lust through Jack. He wonders, distantly, whether it's the 900 years of experience that make the Time Lord such a walking embodiment of sin, or whether he's always been this hot.

The Doctor's hands shift, cupping Jack's buttocks, the Time Lord ignoring Jack's protests.

"Tell me Captain," those hands urge Jack to lift up a little, then pull him closer to the Doctor "have you ever done any riding?" The Doctor's grin is wicked, even as Jack is groaning at the pun. Well, mostly at the pun, although the fact that the Doctor's cock is pressing slowly up into him might have something to do the noises he's making too.

There's a moment where everything pauses, when Jack's sitting in the Doctor's lap again. It's the moment of calm, of stillness before everything is subsumed by the physicality of their coupling.

"Riding, yes." Jack manages "But you make one remark about stallions or reins and after we've finished this, I'll take a riding crop to your ass."

"Promises, promises Captain"

Jack has just a moment to consider that mental image, mind boggling at the thought of it, before the Doctor's hand slides over Jack's cock again. Jack files the thought of the Doctor and riding crops away for later consideration, and begins to move, hands braced on the Doctor's shoulders.

It's good, and hot and everything Jack needs to chase away the earlier panic. Jack wonders whether the Doctor picked this position on purpose, deliberately giving Jack control, or, at least, the illusion of control. Jack doesn't need it, but he's grateful that the Doctor would offer it.

Their pace is slow, almost lazy first, but that doesn't last. The lust and passion between them ensures that, sooner or later, the pace picks up until it's almost frantic.

The Doctor comes first, hand squeezing Jack's cock, the slight pain sending a shiver up Jack's spine. For a few seconds, the Doctor is still, muscles locked and tight. Then he relaxes, and his hand resumes stroking, while the other hand moves over Jack's skin, here and there letting his nails scratch a little.

Jack wants to last a little longer, wants to stay in this world where the only thing that matters is the way this feels, and all his fears, known and unknown can't intrude. But the Doctor knows too well how to bring Jack off, and this time is no different.

The pleasure of orgasm might be fleeting, but to Jack it's better than any alcohol, any drug he's ever tried. It's his secret addiction. Sex, and the Doctor. And Jack's fairly sure he should be more worried about that than he is, but when the results are this good, he really doesn't care that much. Jack's life is littered with poor choices, but, however unwise getting involved with the Doctor is, Jack just can't think of it as one of those bad decisions.

They are both sticky, and sweaty, but Jack doesn't care. He's quite comfortable, and unless the Doctor says anything, he's not moving from his lap anytime soon.

Finally, though, Jack has to speak.

"Is this where you ask all those questions you didn't ask earlier?"

"No. Not unless you want me to."

Jack's not sure quite how to take that. The Doctor's voice is bland, and Jack doesn't have the energy to raise his head and look at the Doctor. At least, that's what he tells himself.

"I don't have any answers." That's the worst part. That's the part that makes Jack want to go back to the Time Agency and start shooting things, and people, until they give back what they stole.

"Do you want the answers?"

"Yes. I need to know."

"Then we'll get you the answers."

Just like that, Jack thinks. As if it's as simple as walking in and asking for them. Maybe to the Doctor it is. It wouldn't actually surprise Jack that much. The thought of it makes Jack smile. Joining the Doctor's crew, getting himself entangled with this strange, alien being may just prove to be one of the smartest moves Jack's ever made, after all.

***