browngirl

Written for

oxoniensis's Porn Battle; edited significantly from that version.

Title: The World-Without-End Hour
Rating: R
Pairing: Jack Harkness/Tish Jones
Warnings: het, set after "Last of the Time Lords". Kinda-sorta a sequel to "I Do But Tend"
Summary: Jack drops by.
Fandom & Prompt: Doctor Who/Torchwood, Jack Harkness/Tish Jones, toothpaste
Disclaimer: The characters herein do not belong to me.

When Tish opens the door of her new flat to see Captain Jack Harkness smiling down at her, the first thing she does is rear up onto her toes and slap him as hard as she can. That rocks his head around to the side, but doesn't diminish his wide sure smile by even one tooth; as she sets her hands on her hips, he just smiles wider at the irritated sound she can't help making. "Hi, Tish," he says, absolutely sure of his welcome.

Tish flexes her fingers, opening her mouth to shout or scream, she doesn't even know. Her hands clench around two fistfuls of his greatcoat, his hands are just as big as she remembers on her waist, pulling her up, and he keeps that bloody infuriating grin right up until she kisses him so hard their teeth click.

She bites his lip savagely, his laugh vibrates into her mouth as he lifts her off her feet, and she kicks the door shut behind him, his back solid under her leg. He was expecting her to kiss him, his teeth are smooth and minty; she wants to bite him again and moans when he tilts her head back and hitches her higher, one hand behind her head, one curved beneath her thigh. Fucking arrogant gorgeous man, this is exactly how she knew his arms would've felt around her, how alive she would've felt with his hands on her, that whole year he'd spent chained up and she'd spent as a slave.

Her back hits the foyer wall, then her knee, his coat falling around her, engulfing her in his solid musky warmth. Jack's tongue's in her mouth and he's kissing her like he too spent a year remembering, a year longing for more. It takes all Tish's strength to grip his broad shoulders and shove, when she pushes her head sideways across the smooth painted surface and Jack follows, chasing her mouth with his until she can pull hers free. "What," she gasps, feeling his lips parted against hers, so close, "What is it with you and open spaces?"

Jack smiles over her mouth, his eyes still closed, dropping his head to her shoulder as he laughs; he's still holding her up against the wall, his hand hot through her jeans leg. "The door's shut, at least."

The air smells of Jack, warm and mouthwatering, and every breath pushes her breasts, all of her front, against his broad chest, and her leg's hooked around his waist. Indignation briefly flickers through her thoughts, but she's already dizzy, his hair soft and clean now beneath her hand. "Not in the foyer," Tish tells him, as firmly as she can manage, despite the quiver of his eyelashes, the way his mouth is wet and red and right there. "Put me down."

"All right," Jack says agreeably, hardly raising his eyelids, looking sleepy and lazy, feeling firm and awake. "But could you get something from my pocket there?" He nods towards an inner pocket, or maybe just rubs his cheek against her shoulder, pushing the sleeve up. When his face hits skin he turns his head to kiss her there, and she shivers, and feels him feel it, feels his smile against her skin.

"You are," she starts, already reaching. The item crinkles beneath her hand, and there's a little round tube as well. Tish pulls out both, finding a condom and toothpaste, and why is she even surprised? "So utterly full of yourself," she finishes, forming the words against his cheek. She drags her mouth across, tasting his skin, as he turns his head, still laughing; he kisses her again as he carries her into the hallway, and maybe later she'll ask how Jack even knows where her bedroom is or how he doesn't ever stumble. Sometime when he's not kissing her until she tingles, his fingers warm on her skin, when she's not too busy feeling in every inch of them both that they have their lives back.