How We Break

Jack groaned into the Doctor’s mouth. He couldn’t help it. It was so pliant. He scrubbed his fingers through the Doctor’s scalp and gripped a fist full of his thick, dark hair, pulling his head back. Jack got up on his knees to loom over the Doctor and crush down against his mouth. A whimper escaped between them, and Jack bit into his lip with a cruel smirk. In all of his fantasies and imaginings, Jack had always pictured himself being the one tossed about, the one who was dominated, even if just a little, but those had all been for the other two regenerations. This one was different. This one Jack wanted under him, withering and gasping.

He moved his mouth down, brushing his lips over the Doctor’s sizable jaw and onto his neck. It was almost sweet tasting. In the back of his mind, he vaguely wondered if it was somehow the jammie dodger’s fault. The skin of the Doctor’s neck was perfect--pale and smooth and so soft. It offered Jack’s mouth no resistance as he sucked on it. It purpled too quickly for his liking. His teeth scraped the Doctor just above the juncture of his throat and shoulder as far down as the collar of his shirt would allow. Constant ragged breathing clouded the air around them, and as teeth sank into his skin, the Doctor moaned too loud to be entirely pleasurable. Jack let up, knowing by the copper taste he bit too deep, but the Doctor’s skin was just so needy, so easily malleable under his mouth it was difficult to resist biting too hard again.

“Jack,” gasped the Doctor in far more of a moan than a word.

He hooked one finger in the collar of Jack’s shirt and timidly pulled at him. Jack got the message and detached himself, moving back up to kiss him. Kiss was inaccurate. It was all gnashing teeth. Jack held his head, forcing him closer and holding him still as Jack attacked him. It wasn’t enough.

Hands pressed against the Doctor’s chest and dug under his suspenders, sliding one off and snapping the other. The Doctor jumped and squeaked in surprise. Jack smirked again and pulled that one off as well. His hands dug down and pressed over the Doctor’s crotch. Jack made an animalistic sound as he rubbed and stroked the hot hardness he found constrained, reveling in the involuntary jerks that wracked the Doctor’s body.

“Unbutton your shirt,” growled Jack.

The Doctor caught his breath and blinked several times, trying to concentrate and control his fingers. He started with the middle button, then the next down. He lost his grip on the third as Jack licked up his throat, forcing his head back again, and pinched the head of his erection through his pants.

“Focus.”

Both of Jack’s hands yanked and pulled at the Doctor’s belt and then his dress pants, breaking apart the zipper. He raised his gaze to the Doctor’s horridly plaid shirt, gripped it, and ripped up the rest of the buttons except the very top one. The Doctor’s hands went to it, but Jack grabbed them and laced their fingers together.

“No,” he ordered in a low voice, “Leave it on.”

He wedged himself between the Doctor’s legs, forcing them apart with his knees and shoving the Doctor’s hands between the sofa cushions behind his head.

“Keep your hands there.”

Sitting back, Jack took a few seconds to take in the sight before him. It was glorious. Hands above and back, legs spread, pants open, the Doctor looked at him with heavy, dilated eyes and his mouth open. His bottom lip was bruising, and one side of his neck was purple and red, chest heaving.

One thing was missing. Jack slowly parted the Doctor’s loose shirt, and it opened like a curtain to reveal flesh so pale it was almost glaring. Jack pressed his hands flat on the skin before him, skin as soft and delicate as his neck. Untouched skin. Jack dug his nails in and scraped down below the Doctor’s undone pants line and forcing the elastic of his boxers out of the way until dark, curly hairs gathered under his fingernails. The Doctor hissed, throwing his head back against the leather, but didn’t move, not even as Jack repeated the motion again and again.

He parted the Doctor’s shirt further and bent to take one bright pink nipple into his mouth, sucking painfully hard, but Jack was starting to think the Doctor wasn’t adverse to pain. His hand returned to the Doctor’s crotch and squeezed. The Doctor bucked up into him. Jack clenched his jaw around the nipple and gripped him. The man under him cried out. Gradually it died to constant moans and whimpers of his name.

Jack rumbled in his throat, “I’ve had enough.”

He reached around the Doctor and grabbed the back waistband of his pants, yanking them down and out from under their owner. The fingers snapped the top of boxers and grabbed them too. Jack leaned back to allow the Doctor’s legs to close and tore the pants and underwear free, throwing them almost angrily off to the side out of view. Wrapping his fingers around the Doctor’s ankles, Jack placed them on either side of his thighs, reached up, and spread the Doctor’s knees, pushing them flat on the floor. Still obedient, the Doctor’s hands remained jammed between the cushions behind his head. He blinked.

The heat that drove Jack forward dissipated somewhat as they locked eyes. The look the Doctor was giving him stalled his hands as they tried to grip at the body underneath him. It was fear, raw, vulnerable fear. Jack gently trailed his fingers up the Doctor’s chest and lightly brushed them over his windpipe. The Doctor closed his eyes and tilted his head back a fraction to allow Jack to touch him. One wrong move or word and Jack was sure the Doctor would shatter in his hands.

Jack leaned forward and placed kisses along his sternum and further up, making sure to be gentle over the bruising of his neck.

“Doctor,” Jack whispered into his ear, “Doctor, you are beautiful, so beautiful.” Jack drug his tongue over the shell of his ear, “Please let me have you.”

Eyes still closed, the Doctor tilted his head towards him and nodded. Jack looked up and captured his lips again, but this time it was slow and careful. The taste of the Doctor, it was something he had wanted his whole life without knowing. He bit the Doctor’s lip with a scraping of his teeth, but when it elicited a moan, Jack latched his mouth on the fresh, creamy side of the Doctor’s neck and clamped his hands around the man’s hips, holding him firmly in place as Jack leaned forward and ground against him.

The Doctor gasped and tried to buck up against him, but the hands that held him dug into a bone-cracking grip. It didn’t last long. Jack was losing patience with himself. Finally he leaned down, bit too hard at one of the Doctor’s nipples, and put his hands around the man’s ankles again. He brought them together and pushed the Doctor’s knees flat the rest of the way.

He wrapped is hand around the abused throat and said, “Don’t move.”

The Doctor rasped in a breath through parted, swollen lips and didn’t move.

Jack pushed away from him and began to strip, not caring for buttons or even stitching it seemed. His clothes crashed into the floor and shoes with a thud each. He was nearly rid of his pants when he heard the Doctor’s hesitant breath.

“Jack… your belt.”

The Doctor raised his clasped hands slowly from between the cushions and let them hover an inch above, unsure if he was allowed to give suggestions.

Jack snatched his belt off the floor with a sideways grin and placed a foot in the circle of the Doctor’s bare legs to kneel. He wrapped and twisted the dark brown leather around the Doctor’s thin wrists and latched them together. He pushed them back into the couch so they remained above the Doctor’s head. A fleeting thought crossed his mind, and he stood to snatch the condoms and bottle of lube behind them off the shelf. Getting back down on his knees, he sat back on his ankles and dropped the items to the floor beside them. He reached around the Doctor’s thighs, grabbed just under his butt cheeks, and lifted him up onto Jack’s lap. The Doctor’s breath hitched to near panic. Jack pressed lips to his collar bone as he reached down and wrapped his fingers around the Doctor’s length. As the man whimpered, Jack felt him grow more solid in his hand.

Off to the side, Jack’s left hand fumbled with opening the lube and squeezing it onto his fingers. His grip on the Doctor was almost too tight as it moved over him, his thumb rubbing circles into the head on the upstroke. He had no idea what the sex drive of a Time Lord was like or if the Doctor had been with anyone in the last ten years, but Jack found him more than easy to rev. Just a few strokes had the alien rocking desperately in his grip, rutting into his hand like some possessed animal. Twice Jack let up and let go to keep the Doctor from cutting the entire thing short. Jack wanted to taste him, to feel the heavy heat on his tongue and press himself down until it pushed into his throat. The slick leak that dripped down the head belonged on Jack’s lips, but he was absolutely sure the Doctor would come in his mouth in under a minute. As much as he liked the thought, he needed more.

Slick fingers reached between them. The Doctor was so spread over Jack’s lap, his opening was already exposed. Jack extended his middle finger and ran its tip over the pucker.

“Jack,” the Doctor’s voice was alarmed.

He leaned forward as far as he could in the awkward position to look down and see what Jack was doing to him. Jack touched him again, pulling another gasp from Doctor.

“Has anyone done this to you before?” asked Jack.

The Doctor shook his head. This had never been one of his interests, but then he seemed to rethink.

“Once,” he gasped, “I was sixteen.”

“Do you remember what it felt like?”

Jack stroked the Doctor’s length, which he noticed had not diminished, and pushed just the end of his finger in. The Doctor’s knee jerked as he squeaked. Seized by a sudden need to claim him, Jack pushed the rest of his finger in to the knuckle. The Doctor gave a shout he muffled himself, biting into his arm, but a couple seconds later he was straining to see what Jack was doing to him again. Jack withdrew his finger and pushed it back in.

“I asked you a question.”

The Doctor whimpered, biting his own sore lip.

“A little. I only… let him once. He… talked me into it.”

Jack’s finger was not as warm as he expected, wrapped in the Doctor’s body, but then he remembered Time Lords had a lower body temperature. He felt around the velvet skin, but didn’t find what he was looking for.

“Who was it?”

Jack removed his finger again, and this time pushed in two all the way down. The noise that escaped the Doctor sounded more like a sob as he threw himself back and arched.

“Who?”

“Master.”

Jack froze. The only person to have the Doctor so completely was the Master, the madman who had tortured them for a year, the psychopath who had refused to regenerate and deliberately left the Doctor alone. The Doctor had begged, cried, and screamed to get him back, and the Master had left. That monster didn’t get to have the Doctor.

“Now it will be me. Now you remember me, think about me every time something or someone touches you here.” Jack pushed his fingers in harder and wiggled them to punctuate his words. “You are my body, my pleasure, my Doctor.”

“Thank you.”

Jack blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that reply. The boiling in his blood mellowed to a simmer again. He leaned forward and sucked on the divot in the Doctor’s collar bone. His fingers still twisted and stretched the tight ring they intruded in.

“Turn,” whispered the Doctor, “Turn… your hand around. It’s higher in the back.”

Jack did as instructed. His fingers creeped up the back of the Doctor’s passage, and when Jack thought perhaps his fingers weren’t long enough, he felt the soft skin give way to a thicker, stronger flesh. The Doctor bucked harder than before.

“God, yes, Jack, that. Do that.”

Jack smirked as he sucked on the Doctor’s ear and set a slow rhythm with both his hands, stroking inside him and out. The Doctor closed his eyes and hung his head back, moaning without shame. He panted nonstop, rocking in the hands that held him, lost in pleasure. Jack stopped sucking and nibbling at him, distracted by the beauty he held. The Doctor was entrancing, his body never still for a moment, mouth open, begging to be filled and choked.

Jack took a deep breath, trying to control himself. He withdrew his hand, noting with a sadistic satisfaction the frustrated groan that escaped the Doctor as he opened his eyes to look at him, his breathing still labored. Jack hooked one finger in the Doctor’s hole and pulled at it.

“Do you want more fingers or do you want to choke on me?”

The Doctor’s eyebrows raised, and he blinked several times before answering.

“Both.”

Jack chuckled softly, and said, “Do you think you’re that lucky?”

“I think you—“ The Doctor shrieked as Jack shoved three fingers in him. “—you want both.”

Jack growled. He sat up into a kneeling position, his neglected length jutting from his body, a sticky thread getting ever longer dripping from the end. He let go of the Doctor’s erection, and put his hand under the man’s knee, pushing it up and against the Doctor’s chest and pinning it there with the side of his hip. Shoving three fingers all the way inside him, digging further in, Jack buried his other hand in the Doctor’s hair and pulled his head forward.

Hesitation slowed the Doctor’s movements as he found himself with Jack’s cock inches from his face. Jack drew him closer and rubbed the tip over the man’s half purple lip, making it shine.

“Open up, Doc.”

The Doctor did as he was told. When his lips were far enough apart, Jack slid his cock over the Doctor's tongue, making sure to spread the pre-cum over his taste buds. Jack pushed further in until he met resistance. The Doctor gaged around him and closed his lips, but Jack noted, a little impressed, he didn't move his hands to push Jack away or try to pull back. The fingers left the Doctor’s body for a more favorable spot on the back of his neck.

"Open your mouth," Jack told him without withdrawing, his tone more dangerous than before.

Jack watched as the Doctor struggled to control his gag reflex. He gently stroked the man's hair in stark contrast to the cruelty that rose in him as the Doctor's face reddened. Finally he leaned back ever so slightly, and the Doctor gasped in with such force a sharp pain pricked his lung. Jack didn't let him move and only gave him a few seconds to get his breath back before re-asserting his grip on the dark hair and pulling him forward.

"Now you can suck on it."

Immediately the Doctor adjusted his angle. If he had done this before, it was over a thousand years ago, so Jack gave him a minute to figure it out.

Jack drew in a breath and let it out in a groan. The Doctor hadn’t needed the full minute to get suction, and he drew Jack into him. His eyes opened half way as his lips smoothed over the cock in his mouth. When he came to the end, he stuck his tongue in the slit to see how far he could get it in. His disappointment at not getting far at all was blanketed by a stronger version of what he assumed was the taste of Jack but now he thought might have been the flavor of the drip. With just the head in his mouth, the Doctor sucked and then sucked harder. He wanted more to be certain, wanted enough to commit the taste to memory, but Jack's hand tightened in his hair, and he figured he should move on. He trailed his mouth down the side of Jack's cock to the base and then repeated with the other side.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"I," the Doctor panted, swallowing his ragged breathing, "I've never done this.... Sorry, I don't know...."

"You don't need to know."

The Doctor was yanked, and Jack slammed himself back into his throat. The Doctor's whole torso convulsed. Jack just worked his way in a little further, not caring that the Doctor's face was crushed into his lower abdomen. He rocked, allowing the man on the floor tiny gasps of breath between each small thrust.

The Doctor's lips were swollen and shined and his face a growing red. Watching as he desperately tried to keep up with what Jack wanted, whatever he wanted, simply left Jack with the need to give him more of a challenge.

Jack placed a hand on the Doctor's forehead and pushed his head back against the couch, pinning him. He wrapped his other hand around the Doctor's heaving neck and braced his knee up on the couch. He let his erection fall on the Doctor’s lips, and like such a good boy, he opened his mouth, and Jack took him.

No noise escaped the Doctor as Jack fucked his throat. Perhaps a gurgle or a gasp would pollute the air, and Jack would make sure to pummel him harder, closing his eyes. The Doctor squirmed, his heels scraping off on the carpet, stomach muscles contracting and rippling, his arms making too much of a fuss even buckled under his head. Moisture gathered around the Doctor’s eyes and ran onto the leather of the sofa. It felt good to Jack, of course it did, but he got far more pleasure from violently using him. He pushed down his Doctor’s throat again. He didn’t know how long he stayed there, reveling in the constriction and the knowledge of where he was, but soon the Doctor was more than gaging; he was suffocating. Jack didn’t move, not until he felt the Doctor’s hands push him back. Finally Jack had taken him far enough to pull his hands out, still belted together, and try to make Jack stop.

Jack looked down at him and paused. He pulled clear of the Doctor and watched him gasp and frantically try to swallow before the next onslaught. Jack’s hands turned gentle and soft, and the Doctor, head still craned back, opened his eyes to look at him. Jack lowered himself onto the carpet. He reached out and carefully cupped the Doctor’s head, raising it upright. The Doctor blinked at him, a drop of moisture running down his cheek. Jack smoothed his thumb over the Doctor’s lips to wipe away the trickle of blood trying to run to his chin. The split in his lip was wider than Jack thought. Blood oozed up again. Jack wiped it and pressed his thumb over the cut. He touched the tear that had fallen on the Doctor’s face and smoothed it away.

“I’m sorry,” Jack told him, “I should have been paying closer attention.”

The Doctor didn’t volunteer any arguments. Jack pulled his finger from the Doctor’s very swollen lip and kissed him, a sweet kiss.

“You did so well,” Jack mumbled, and before he could do anything else, the Doctor was kissing him back, perhaps not as gently, but Jack doubted his lips could take much more.

“Please,” the Doctor said quietly, “Do it.”

Needing no more encouragement, Jack kissed his way down the Doctor’s chest and stomach and licked his soft length. The Doctor’s breath hitched as he watched Jack take him in his mouth. Jack fumbled with the lube, and the Doctor was touched intimately again, a finger parting him. Even with the throbbing in his face and throat from the abuse, it took as little time as it had before to get the Doctor solid in his mouth. Jack teased him with his teeth and added another finger.

“That’s not what I want, Jack.”

The immortal smirked and sat up, breaking contact with the man before him. He reached for the box of condoms, but the Doctor leaned over and with his belted hands, grabbed it and threw it across the office. Jack gritted his teeth in thought. Condoms had always been a rule of his, but if he was honest, whatever the Doctor wanted he got. Jack grabbed the lube and slicked his own length, then squeezed more onto his fingers and rubbed it over and through the Doctor’s entrance. The Doctor sat straighter, his gaze getting more intense.

“Nervousness is okay,” Jack said, picking him up again and setting him in his lap, “Sure you’re ready?”

The Doctor nodded without hesitation. Jack reached between them and pushed the head of his cock into the Doctor’s body, parting and stretching his hole. The Doctor drew his belted hands over Jack’s head and around the back of his neck, gripping Jack’s hair like a handle. He gasped and tensed as Jack pushed, widening him further every second. Jack clenched the Doctor’s hips and held him closer, pulling him increasingly onto the intrusion until Jack was held tight within his body. Jack rocked him a little to make sure he couldn’t get in any more, but the movement nearly panicked the Doctor.

“Jack, Jack—“

“Shhh, I know, not yet.”

Jack’s arms wrapped around the Doctor’s torso. It was a strong embrace, one that promised security and safety. Jack kissed the less abused corner of the Doctor’s mouth, his tongue running lightly over the sensitive skin. The Doctor opened his mouth to let Jack do what he would. The trust he gave was nearly palpable, and Jack honestly didn’t know how to handle it. He splayed his hands on the Doctor’s back as he kissed him and kneaded his tense muscles under the flap of the white shirt, working his way lower. He flattened his hands over the Doctor’s ass and under it, and lifted him not even an inch. The Doctor went rigid but relaxed as Jack lowered him back down. When no protest came, Jack repeated the movement only higher. And again. And then the Doctor was slowly doing it himself. Jack held still and allowed him.

“Why…” the Doctor started, pressing his forehead to Jack’s without stopping, “Why is it so hot?”

Jack raised his eyebrows, but then realized the Doctor around him was significantly less warm than any other being he’d been with. He wrapped his arms around the Doctor, held him as close as possible, and turned, leaning down to carefully lie the Doctor on the floor, keeping his shirt as a barrier between his skin and rough carpet.

“Different body heats remember?” Jack asked.

The Doctor blinked and swallowed, a sharp pain to his throat, trying to collect his thoughts. He nodded, knowing Jack was right.

With one more kiss over the Doctor’s bloodied lip, Jack pulled the Doctor’s hands out from around Jack’s neck and placed them above the Doctor’s head on the floor. Jack sat up and back, pulling free from the body beneath him. Jack laughed at the frustrated glare he received and thrust back in. The Doctor arched his back with a groan.

“Does that mean you’re ready for a good fuck, Doctor?”

The Doctor sucked on the inside of his cheek.

“I want an answer to that, words.”

The Doctor groaned again and said in exasperation, “Yes, Jack, fuck me.”

Jack slammed into him.

“Dirty talk form the Doctor? How many people have heard that before?”

An answer was not forthcoming. Jack dug his fingers into his friend’s hips one more time and held him still. The lack of heat in the Doctor’s body did nothing to keep him at bay as he had hoped. He tried to ignore the Doctor’s unabashed moaning as Jack fucked him into the floor, but it was something he knew he’d never get out of his head. Jack pushed himself up, struggling to find the spot he had been shown. And then the Doctor screamed. Not a loud moan, not a yell, a scream. Jack froze.

“Doctor, tell—“

“No, Jack, please, Jack, go… go.”

The Doctor tried to pick his pelvis up off the floor, but Jack pinned him, eyes wide. He thrust twice more, and the Doctor screamed again. It was such a naked scream, Jack stalled, but the Doctor was not allowing it. With more strength than Jack knew he had, the Doctor picked his hips up against Jack’s grip and pushed onto him. When the Time Lord decided Jack could have back control, he rested on the floor, and Jack returned to beating his insides. Jack’s thrusts became more accurate, and the Doctor mellowed from screaming to a near constant sob. Occasionally Jack’s name bumble out.

Jack couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man, a man with all of time and space at his every whim, a man who possessed more knowledge than any other singular being in the universe, exposed and spread out on the floor, wrapped around Jack like he might die if he didn’t get Jack’s cum inside him.

Jack groaned. This was not lasting as long as he wanted. He released one of the Doctor’s hips and wrapped his hand around the Doctor’s weeping length. He tried to stroke him in time to the thrusts but couldn’t focus enough, couldn’t coordinate. The Doctor bucked into his hand, the strength he exhibited earlier leaking out uncontrolled.

“Doctor… do you want me to cum in you? I bet you’ll feel the heat of it inside you even after I’ve left.”

The words came out with difficulty. He wasn’t expecting an answer either. The Doctor was too far gone for that, but the drunken look he gave Jack through slits in his eyes showed he was listening at least. The Doctor’s body shuttered violently. For a second Jack was alarmed, and then he registered pulsing in his hand. Jack gasped as the Doctor’s entrance clamped down on him. Back arched, a silent scream on his lips, the Doctor shuttered a second time, and emptied himself over his own stomach.

Watching the Doctor cum was more than Jack could handle at that moment. His hand slid free and braced him on the floor. He slammed into the tight hole that held him over and over, trying to get as deep as he possible could and finally came, an orgasm that pulled noises he had no memory of ever making before.

Jack lowered himself down to his elbows and rested his forehead against the Doctor’s chest, reveling in the shocks that still rocked his body. Even fevered, the Doctor’s skin was cool on his face, and he was thankful for it. He panted, taking in the familiar smell of sex and something else, something that was vaguely familiar.

Fingers threaded through his hair and rested on his head. Jack sighed and pushed himself back up to look down on his Doctor. He hadn’t heard his belt come undone from around the Doctor’s wrists and flop to the floor, but he didn’t much care. Raw, red lines crisscrossed and encircled the Doctor’s wrists. Jack took the Doctor’s hands in his and leaned down to kiss them, but the Doctor pulled one away. With mild fascination, Jack watched as a single finger of the Doctor’s trailed through the shine on his stomach, gathering cum as it went. The Doctor held his hand out to Jack, who needed no explanation. He held the hand in his and drug his tongue up the dirtied finger. He closed his mouth around it and gently sucked. This was the familiar smell. He knew it from living on the TARDIS with the first regeneration he’d known. He wondered how many of the Doctor’s traveling companions had smelled his cum without knowing what it was. Jack groaned around it.

“Yes, I can feel it,” whispered the Doctor, his voice hoarse, “No, don’t leave me.”

And there it was, the vulnerability that reminded Jack he was supposed to be caring for this man who had, after nearly twelve hundred years, fallen apart. Guilt and disgust crashed into him. Jack crawled up the Doctor’s body and softly pressed their lips together one more time.

“I’ll get something to clean you up with,” Jack told him.

The Doctor’s arms snaked around Jack’s chest, and the Time Lord rasped, “No, just stay here.”

As much as Jack knew he should probably bathe the Doctor and dress him in something more than a lopsided bowtie and horribly wrinkled shirt that, if he was honest, might never button again, Jack simply just couldn’t refuse anything the Doctor asked of him. So instead of properly taking care, Jack removed himself from atop the man, reached over for his long coat, and threw it over them. The Doctor seemed to think it was good enough. He rolled into Jack’s side and buried his face. Before Jack finished straightening his coat, the Doctor was asleep.