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teleen_fictionAuthor: Teleen (
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teleen_fiction)Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ten
Rating: All Ages
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Kinks: Slight d/s.
Disclaimer: I make no money from this.
Summary: "This never would have happened if you'd ducked when I told you to!"
A/N: Written for
theawfuldodger, who prompted me: Jack/10th. Soap. Bonuspoints for bottom!doctor and D/s undertones :D“This never would have happened if you’d ducked when I told you to!”
Jack was cross with him, that was certain. Still, there were worse things than Jack being cross. Speaking of which, Jack was coming towards him with what looked like a wetted handkerchief.
“What’s that for?” the Doctor asked warily.
“What do you think it’s for? You’ve got it all over you!” Jack leaned forward and began to scrub his face exactly as a human mother would her child. The Doctor discovered that he didn’t care for it one bit. He pulled back and away.
“Doctor. Don’t make me tie you up for this.”
Jack’s voice made him shiver, just a bit. It was ridiculous, really. Over 900 years old and this, this boy was making him feel like he was barely out of diapers. Still, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it.
Jack’s touch on his face was quite pleasant, in any case, as he removed every trace of the… whatever it was… from his skin.
It was even more pleasant when they were finally done on the planet and they were safe in the Vortex.
Jack led him to their bath, started the taps in the tub, and slowly stripped him. Jack wouldn’t let him help and moved his arms gently but firmly to his sides whenever he tried.
It was odd, really. The regeneration who’d first met Jack never would have stood for this sort of treatment. Big ears and black leather jacket would have boxed the lad’s ears first, but he wasn’t that man anymore and sometimes it was just nice to be able to simply let go.
Jack always caught him. Jack would always be there to catch him. As always when this particular thought came to him, the Doctor was ashamed for it.
“None of that,” Jack whispered in his ear as he led him to the tub. Jack was incredibly perceptive, for a human. He always knew when the Doctor’s mind was straying to areas that the two of them had long ago decided were settled between them.
Jack led him to the tub, helped him into it and began to gently wash him from head to toe, still not letting him help in any way, shape or form.
He had to admit, it felt good, feeling Jack’s soap-slicked hands cover him from head to toe in comfort.
And soap.
For some reason that the Doctor had never had the courage to ask about, Jack always used a lot of soap whenever he did this, to the point where there were almost more bubbles than water.
The Doctor guessed that there was a memory there and though he sometimes felt the need to try and get Jack to (shudder) share his feelings, this wasn’t the time.
Jack’s hands were so gentle and for now, the Doctor vowed to simply enjoy them.
And the soap.
