Title: Only You
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: 4 10_hurt_comfort
Prompt: 7, Jealousy
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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The Doctor looked over at the bartender, raising his brows and signaling the man for another drink. He wasn't drunk -- at least, not yet. He was only pleasantly disoriented, though he still had his faculties about him. Well, he thought so, anyway.

That nice man who had been talking to him had moved away; he was chatting up a woman at the other end of the bar now. The Doctor smiled wryly, shaking his head. It must have been his mention of his boyfriend that had put the other man off.

Not that he minded, he told himself hastily. Jack was the only one for him; he had not been flirting with that man. He'd merely been carrying on what he thought was an innocent conversation, with no kind of sexual overtones at all.

It had shocked him to realize that the other man hadn't thought that; his words had begun to be too overtly sexual for the Doctor's comfort, and he'd brought up Jack as a kind of shield. That had made his acquaintance move off quickly, as though they'd never spoken.

He wasn't all that attractive, anyway, the Doctor told himself as the bartender set his replenished glass down in front of him. Even if he didn't already have a boyfriend who he loved more than life, he wouldn't have had sex with that man. Not his type at all.

Or would he? He stole a glance at the end of the bar as he picked up his drink. The woman was getting off her barstoool, preparing to leave -- with the man he'd been talking to. Well, he'd obviously found what he had been here looking for, the Time Lord thought with a smirk.

No, he definitely wouldn't have had sex with that man. He'd thought they were just having a pleasant conversation; he hadn't considered it flirting at all, not until the man had touched his knee and then laid a hand against his back. That had made him uncomfortable.

He hated it when people touched him in that way, completely out of the blue. It was one thing if a touch was invited, but that one definitely hadn't been. He was glad that the man had found someone to leave with; there would be no more attempts to flirt with him.

The Doctor looked around the bar for Jack; worry was growing inside him, an uneasiness that he couldn't shake off. Ah, there he was -- he'd apparently been in the men's room. He was making his way back to the bar, a scowl on his face.

The Time Lord looked up at his lover as Jack leaned on the bar, wondering what could have caused that thunderous look to settle onto his lover's handsome features. Maybe someone had tried to flirt with him, and for once, Jack hadn't returned the attention.

He had to stop thinking like that, the Doctor admonished himself. Jack had said that he was going to change his ways; he was satisfied with his lover, and he wasn't going to flirt any more. It wouldn't be easy for the other man, he was sure, but he trusted Jack to do it.

So what was making him look so angry now? The Doctor waited until the bartender had made Jack his drink before he turned ot his lover, wondering why the frown on his face seemed to have settled there permanently and opening his mouth to ask what was wrong.

Jack beat him to it, though. The immortal drained his glass in a few gulps, slamming it down on the bar and turning to look at the Doctor with anger sparking behind his dark eyes. "I see you're taking a page from my book. After I said it was closed."

"What?" The Time Lord was taken aback by his lover's words; he hadn't expected anything like this from Jack. He hadn't done anything wrong; that man had been flirting with him, not the other way around, if that was what Jack was upset about.

"I saw you flirting with that guy. Did you decide that you were going to turn the tables on me?" Jack's hand shot out to grip the Doctor's upper arm, making the Time Lord wince. "Two can play at that game, Doctor. I'm willing to take back everything I said."

"I was not flirting with him! He started talking to me." The Doctor tried unsuccessfully to pull his arm free. "You're hurting me, Jack," he said softly. He didn't want to let his own anger rise; after all, maybe Jack had a right to be annoyed.

"Yeah? Then why was he touching you -- and you were letting him?" Jack's voice was a low hiss, the words that had at first been meant only for the Doctor growing louder. "Did you think that you were going to see what it was like to play the willing slut for a change?"

The Doctor gasped at the audacity of Jack's words, a heated denial coming to his lips. But he didn't speak; there was a part of him that was too hurt by Jack's automatic assumption that he would cheat to allow the words to come out.

What had brought this on? Jack's own guilt about how he'd cheated on the Doctor too many times to count? Or was he angry that he'd had to give up his philandering ways, only to think that his lover was becoming more like him?

No, that wasn't it. The Doctor's eyes widened as the answer to his questions came to him, bursting into his consciousness like a firecracker shooting off sparks. He hadn't expected that kind of a reaction. Not from Jack. But he'd gotten it nonetheless.

He couldn't believe it. Jack was jealous. His Jack, the man who would flirt with anything on two feet, the man who never cared what his lovers did or who they did it with, who had promised to change all of that for him -- was actually jealous.

"Jack, you don't have anything to be jealous of," he said softly, laying a hand on the other man's arm. "I wasn't flirting with him. I told him that I had a boyfriend who I love more than anything in the world, and he backed off. There's only you for me, Jack. You should know that by now."

Jack's grip on his arm slackened; the immortal looked down, swallowing hard. "You told him that?" he said softly, not meeting the Doctor's gaze. "I ...." His words trailed off; his hand moved from the Doctor's arm to rest on the bar. "I'm sorry."

"You should be. I'm going to have a bruise there tomorrow." The Doctor rubbed his arm where Jack had gripped it, frowning slightly. "You don't have to be jealous, Jack. You know me better than that. It hurts me to think that you would have such a low opinion of me."

Jack sighed, signaling the bartender for another drink. "You're right, Doc. I know you better than that. It just pissed me off to see another guy talking to you -- and touching you. I wanted to kill him when I saw him put his hand on your back."

"It wasn't exactly comfortable for me, either," the Doctor told him dryly. "I wanted to tell him to remove his hand from my person, but I doubt he'd have known what I meant. He didn't seem to be the type to take subtle hints very well, either."

Jack laughed, picking up his glass and draining it quickly. "What do you say we go back to the Tardis? I think I need to make this up to you. I acted like a jerk, babe. I'm sorry. And I'm willing to do whatever you want to prove just how much I mean that."

The Doctor's brows rose at the endearment; Jack must be getting a bit drunk to call him something like that. "Anything?" he asked, a hint of mischief in his tone. "Anything I want? That's getting yourself into dangerous territory, Captain Harkness."

"Oh, I think I can handle it." Jack's dark eyes were sparkling now; he threw the Doctor a devilish glance as he moved away from the bar. "Coming?" He laughed, a throaty, sensual sound. "No question about that. I know you will be. Several times, in fact."

"Oh, really? I hope that's a promise," the Doctor told him as he slid off the barstool. He linked his arm through Jack's as they made their way to the door, not looking around him. He only had eyes for one man -- the only man who would ever own his hearts.

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