Fic, Dancing Lessons, 27/33: Burlesque

[loveslashangst]

Story: Dancing Lessons
Author: Love! Slash! Angst! melindakitty
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Captain Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler;
Rated: Adult for slash, bisexuality, mature content, language, violence, the best bubble-bath in relative dimensions, and lots and lots of sex (multiple pairings/groupings)
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, 'cause if I did there would have been no parting of the ways, Rose would be happy and walking funny, and a love of tech isn't the only thing Nine and Jack would be sharing.
Spoilers: AU. If you haven't seen the first three series of Doctor Who, you may be spoilered. I like to mess with canon.
Summary: By popular request: OT3 Nine/Jack/Rose. One of Jack's exes is out for a bit of revenge. Can the Doctor and Rose figure a way to rescue him before he has to pay the piper? Watch for fancy footwork, a bit of intrigue, occasional plot, and a large excuse for love and smut.

Burlesque: Though this dance varies enormously from region to region and setting to setting, the one thing each variation has in common is naughtiness and voyeurism. Burlesque is all about the tease (quite often the STRIP tease) and the ability of the dancer(s) to arouse their audience through controlled gyration, sensual movement, and running the hands over themselves or other dancers to simulate the touch of foreplay.

(Nine and Jack do a solo burlesque for Rose.)



The Doctor politely but firmly pulls Jack and Rose to their feet. “No offense, lad and lady, but I think we all could use a bath.”

Rose grins. “Bubble bath?” (Nothing chases away the blues like a bit of sudsing with her two favourite guys. And OOH! Ain’t THAT a nice image? Have to hold onto that for a bit.)

When Jack grins back at her, he looks a bit more his old flirtatious self. “Is there any other kind?”

The Doctor looks a bit uncomfortable. “Well, on board the TARDIS right now, there might be,” he mutters, heading for the main door of the bedroom. He pauses, one hand on the doorknob (only the Doctor would fancy a starship with regular hinges-and-doorknobs doors) and looks at them impatiently. “Well? Come along, then. You’re not expecting to find a decent bathroom in here, I hope?”

She and Jack exchange looks. (He appears just as puzzled as she.)

“What are you talking about?” she says. “There’s a lovely bath just off my bedroom. Shower surround. Full-body massage. Very swish.” (And it’s been very handy for relieving the sexual frustration that’s been building up over the months. Nothing like the hot, pulsing jets of a good shower massage to help one manage the jealousy of a stubbornly platonic Doctor AND the daily flirtation of a handsome-yet-off-limits Captain.) She glances at said Captain. “You, Jack?”

Jack nods. “Yup. Nothing’s nicer after running for one’s life than a good soak in the built-in Jacuzzi.”

She files that tidbit away for future reference. “Ooooooh. If the Doctor can’t come up with better, party’s at your place.”

It is SO good to see the flirt come back into his eyes. “I’ll see if I can scare up some margaritas.” He turns the flirt toward the Doctor. “Banana flavoured, I assume?”

Rose scares up her best Northern accent. “Bananas are good.”

The Doctor stands agog. (He is SO cute when he does that. Not often she gets to see him good and speechless.) “The... Jacu--...You have... full-body...” He glares at the ceiling. “Now THAT’S gratitude for you. And who the hell’s been keeping those mouldering circuits of yours running these nine hundred years?”

A door that wasn’t in the opposite wall a minute ago swings open. If doors could be huffy, it’s well huffy with attitude to spare.

The Doctor stares at it. “That’s new.”

Rose is first to grin. “Maybe all you had to do was ask.”

Jack, who might well look even better from the back than he does from the front, waltzes over to the door like he’s not stark naked and peers through. “Oh. My. God.”

She and the Doctor exchange a look. He’s gone all stoic again, though he also looks a bit nervous. She puts her arm through his. He crooks his elbow automatically.

“What you got, Jack?” she says.

The boy’s grinning ear to ear when he turns. “I think you’d better see this for yourself.”

The Doctor gives an odd bow, indicating she should go first. It’s be cute and chivalrous if he didn’t tend to do it only when he thought whoever went first was likely to encounter something unpleasant or not half dangerous. She rolls her eyes and heads for the door, the Doctor trailing her.

And promptly stops in the doorway.

Water cascades over rocky, fern-strewn grottos like some mermaid’s fantasy. A large pool in the centre of the room is fed by a waterfall that’s coming from... somewhere... it’d be kind of in the ceiling if there were a ceiling. (Then again, Rose learnt long ago that the fastest way to go ‘round the twist is to question how things work on the TARDIS. Best to just accept the impossible and move on.) Beautiful sprays of orchids in every colour, size, and description peek from nooks and crannies. Several steaming pools flank the central pool. The whole place exudes the soft perfume of exotic flowers and clean water.

“And I was so looking forward to the bubble bath.” Jack sounds amused and disappointed.

The little pool closest to them obediently starts to overflow with perfumed suds that smell pleasantly of exotic flowers.

“Bloody hell,” says the Doctor. She’s never seen him so flabbergasted while on board his own ship.

“Hey!” Jack peeks out from a little cave, pushing aside the attractive curtain of greenery in front of its entrance. “There’s a sauna in here!” He ducks back in. Continues to exclaim enthusiastically, though it’s impossible to understand him over the echo.

“I thought she’d be mad as hell,” says the Doctor, still stunned.

She takes his arm. Smiles at him. “Now why would she be mad at you of all people?”

“She’s always mad at me.” He shakes his head in wonder. “And I made her pull a chunk out of a star. Bend the rules of physics a bit. Go closer than fifteen parsecs not only to a pulsar but THROUGH a nebula and she HATES nebulae.”

“I remember,” she says. “They make her itch.”

After a moment’s surprise, he gives her the kind of oh-god-I-love-you look a normal person would reserve for someone who’d just declared her undying love for him in the form of some perfectly-metered poetry or summat. (Though she doesn’t put up even a little bit of a fight when he pulls her into his arms for a good, thorough snog.)

“Maybe you’re not the best judge of how much people love you,” she murmurs between kisses.

“Maybe not,” he agrees. His hand feels insanely good in her hair, his mouth soft and hard at the same time. (And -- like Jack -- the Doctor knows how to make good use of that lovely tongue of his.)

“Hey!” Jack strides over, grinning. “Don’t start without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The Doctor’s arms tighten around her. A bit strange to be hugged without all her clothes in the way, but not all bad either. (Be even better once the Doctor’s good and naked.) He catches a hand at the back of Jack’s neck. Pulls him close for a snog so intense that Jack’s flushed and slightly winded by the time the Doctor reluctantly pulls away.

And Rose is reasonably sure she’s never been so aroused in her life. (Both. With any luck she’s going to get to have both. Whatever she did to deserve this, she’s eternally grateful for it.)

“I keep forgetting how good you are at that,” says Jack. He holds out a gentlemanly hand to Rose. “My lady?”

She takes the hand. “Charmed, I’m sure.” He escorts her to the closest pool, which is all but overflowing with softly perfumed suds. When she dips her toes in, the water under the suds is pleasantly hot. She carefully steps in. Then down to her neck. Then settles in, leaning her back against the side.

“Stand up a sec,” says Jack.

She does but is distracted by the bubbles. The suds are so much fun to play with that she scoops up some and uses them to decorate herself with foamy “bathing costume”. (A bikini, of course.) It smells heavenly, though damned if she can remember what that kind of flower is called.

The boys ogle her as only two lovers can.

A bit self-conscious at the raw appreciation in both pairs of blue eyes, she sinks down into the water. “What?”

“Guy moment.” Jack’s eyes are warm. “No need to hide. We were just enjoying the view. Right, Doc?”

“That we were.” The Doctor really can do that look of raw sex better than anyone she’s ever met. She’d always kind of thought he might be able to, but it’s so lovely to FINALLY be on the receiving end. (And she’s going to make him keep each and every one of those promises in his eyes.)

She gives them her best come-hither look. Arches just enough above the water so she can decorate her bosom with more suds. Right satisfying it is to see both looks heat up a bit. (Though poor Jack’s bits aren’t cooperating yet. Have to work on that. The Doctor warned her it might be a bit slow going until their dear boy was back up and running.)

Jack looks to the Doctor. “I’d lose the clothes, if I were you.”

Nodding, the Doctor begins to shrug out of his coat.

She sits up, grinning at the inspiration. “No. Wait.” (That thought is DEFINITELY too delicious to ignore.)

The Doctor pauses mid-shed. Both he and Jack look at her expectantly.

The nervous arousal runs laps from her too-fast beating heart to the pleasant tingling between her legs. “Put it back on.”

The Doctor shoots her an uncertain look, though he obeys. Shrugs the coat into place.

Jack chuckles. “She really has you trained, doesn’t she?”

The Doctor glares. “Fine one to talk you are, Mr. One More Dance Instead of Getting Rose To Safety In The TARDIS.”

Jack gives a grin that’s intended to look guilty but ends up looking gleeful. “What can I say? I was lost from the minute she fainted into my arms aboard my ship.”

The Doctor gives her an incredulous look. “You fainted into his arms aboard his ship?”

She decides this conversation can only end in disaster, gives her best coquettish grin, and looks up at Jack. “Strip him, please?”

If Jack grinned any wider, he might well break his face. He turns to the Time Lord, then pauses, uncertain.

The Doctor straightens, half sweet shyness and half false bravado. “Go on, then. You heard the lady.”

Rose ducks across the little pool. Wades through perfumed suds. (And inhales a few. Sneezes. Though the suds are lovely to smell, they’re not designed to have up one’s nose.) Puts her arms on the edge and waits. And don’t the two of them wake her body up in all kinds of nice ways? Every sensitive bit inside and out is paying thorough and complete attention now.

Jack sets his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders. In spite of everything, there’s a bit of pause there, as if Jack half expects to be asked to leave. (Then again, from what little she’s been able to glean of his life before travelling with the Doctor and her, warm welcomes have been few and far between for Jack.) He carefully slips strong fingers inside the coat. Pushes it off the Doctor’s shoulders. Kisses him with an oddly masculine mix of tenderness and possessiveness. Coat half-off, the Doctor pulls Jack close. Snogs him slowly. Jack disentangles the coat from his arms. Sets it aside.

And if the look between the two of them were any hotter, she might well come on the spot. (Three guesses what her new favourite spectator sport will be.)

Jack glances at her. “How’m I doing?”

She gives him two enthusiastic thumbs-ups. Blows foam affectionately at them.

Jack snogs the Doctor a good one. Pulls the jumper up and over his head. He breaks the kiss just long enough to free the Doctor. Tosses the soiled garment aside. Curls a hand at the back of the Doctor’s head. Pulls him in for another deep embrace. (And it’s making her even hotter to remember the lovely texture of Jack’s tongue. When the boys are done, she’ll have to have them take turns kissing her all over.)

The Doctor reaches for his belt. Jack slaps his hands away. Teases the Doctor’s lips with his until the Doctor’s glare softens. (And how she loves to see the Doctor’s shoulders relax. Trust. The man so seldom trusts anyone or anything.) The Doctor falls into Jack’s kiss, eyes closing in pleasure. Jack unbuckles and unfastens the Doctor’s trousers. Slowly. Throws her a smouldering look just to be sure she’s watching.

And is she ever watching. Her whole body tightens in anticipation. Sweet tingling runs through her. (It’s not half torture to watch, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.)

Jack kisses his way down the Doctor's chest in ways that make her feel like she’s becoming the heat source for the water in the pool. (Sweet Jesus, do they know how hot they are?)

Well, Jack clearly does. Boy has the naughty look down to an art form. And he knows just where to touch to send delicious shivers through the Doctor. The air ripples around him as that beautiful golden energy begins to unfurl. (Makes her shiver in lovely ways just to watch and feel it.) And with every moment that passes, the Jack she knows, loves, and has had the most painfully frustrating schoolgirl crush on re-emerges. Except, it’s even better now, because she knows that as soon as he can, she’ll get the chance to shag him again.

Jack stands behind the Doctor. Strange to think of the Doctor being the taller of the two because Jack has such a room-devouring personality. The devious twinkle is back with a vengeance in Jack’s blue eyes as he shoots her a bedroom-eyed look over the Doctor’s bare shoulder. (Made all the sexier when the Doctor turns his head, breathless, and seeks Jack’s kiss again.) Jack slides his hands over the Doctor’s half-bared hips. Slides trousers and pants down. Kisses up the side of his neck. The Doctor half-turns in his arms. Snogs him hard and slow and just as deep as she likes it. (And nothing sounds quite so inviting as Jack’s little muffled cry of delight. With the possible exception of the Doctor’s muffled moan of pleasure as Jack finds that lovely alien sweet spot just below the Doctor’s cock.

The air fills slowly with tendrils of golden energy.

She can’t stand it any more. She reaches out. Unties the Doctor’s shoes for Jack. Helps him shuck off the rest of the Doctor’s clothing. Hands them both down into the pool.

“Had enough?” Jack teases.

She nods, not trusting her voice. Holds out her arms to the two of them.

“She lasted longer than I thought she would,” says the Doctor. He grins at her glare.

They press her against the far side of the pool. Smooth-rough hands. The sweet, soft rasp of Jack’s tongue against hers. The Doctor devours her shoulder so hard she just knows he’ll leave a helluva love bite. (YAY!) Sensuous energy threads in and through her. Someone’s fingertips brush her clit. Tease. The Doctor’s mouth is hard on hers. A taste of eternity. Jack’s sweet, rough whisper in her ear, telling her everything he’s wanted to do since the moment they met. Hands stroke her breasts. Hands caress her everywhere, warmed by the water. Hands slip between her thighs. Jack’s mouth on hers again. The Doctor pulls her into his lap, her back to his chest. Sandwiched between the two men she loves more than she’d ever dreamed possible. Jack’s hand between her legs, more insistent now. Jack’s other hand between her and the Doctor, touching him as well. The Doctor’s rough hands are gentle on her breasts, stroking the nipples with surprisingly soft thumbs. A hard but tender mouth at her shoulder. Jack driving at her mouth. Insistent rhythm. Tongue caressing hers. Hand keeping time. Sliding over her. Slipping inside her.

And the Doctor focuses those sensuous tendrils down, a phantom caress to match Jack’s exquisite touch. (She is the luckiest girl in the universe.)

She writhes like a wild thing in their arms. They hold her. Just firmly enough. (And here she’d thought she didn’t do it for them. Silly her.)

Jack’s fingers curl in and up. Expert. Captain knows just where to touch. Just how to touch. There’s a blissful darkness to that gaze. Knowing. He knows her as if he could read her very soul. And she’s panting so hard the breath rasps in her throat. That hand. Sure of himself. He’s so sure of himself. It’s so easy to give in. And the Doctor’s energies match him stroke for stroke. Caress for caress.

“Rose.” Ohhhhhhhh the Doctor’s velvet purr in her ear. It’s not fair to have a voice like that. There’s a brief moment of hesitation. Jack’s eyes flick away from hers. He smiles. His eyes are deeper when he looks back.

“I...” the Doctor murmurs. “I love you, Rose.”

Her whole body arches. (So long! She’s waited so long for those words!) He holds her. Enfolds her in that warm vibration. Jack’s thumb brushes her clit. He snogs her again. Panting into his mouth. Half-coherent, she sobs that she loves them both.

“Rose Tyler,” the Doctor sighs into her ear, more confident this time, and more sincere. “I love you madly.”

She comes so hard she thinks she might faint. The Doctor marks her with a fierce kiss to her shoulder, as if he could draw up her whole soul through the press of his mouth on her skin. The energy surges upward. Drives her higher. Jack possesses her mouth, hand deep within her. She surrenders to them. Wanting. Safe. Blissed beyond words.

And it’s a damn good thing they’re immersed in water or she’d slither bonelessly to the ground.

Jack releases her slowly. Cradles her face in his hands. Kisses her again. “I love you, Rose.”

She can only hope they understand her as she tries to scrape together enough words to tell them she loves them too.

When her hands start to work again, she reaches behind. Wraps her hand around the strangely cool hardness that is the Doctor. He gives a pleased growl in her ear.

She reaches out. Slides a hand down Jack’s chest to his groin. He’s still soft. A moment of genuine fear flickers in his eyes. She kisses him, reassuring. “Seems we’re a bit uneven.” She strokes him gently. His eyes narrow to slits in pleasure, though his body ignores her.

The Doctor kisses his way up her neck to her ear. “Shall we see what we can do about that?”

“Let’s.”

Grinning, Rose and the Doctor throw themselves into Jack’s arms.

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Crossposted to: time_and_chips, better_with_3