Fic, Dancing Lessons, 30/33: Lyrical Dance

[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.

Lyric Dance: A highly-flexible modern style of dance combining a multitude of styles and approaches. Lyrical dance is all about the emotion, the more powerful the better, and communicating feeling through physical expression and movement.

(Nine kisses Rose farewell. Jack leads her back out on the dance floor.)



The Doctor smiles. Slides Jack’s beautiful erection through his hand. “Now we can really finish this.”

“Yes.” Jack sobers, eyes dark with expectant lust. “But not here.”

Rose has never been so blissfully happy in her entire life. Perfect. It was perfect. Better than she could possibly have wanted. She strokes the Doctor’s back. He looks down at her, a world of unspoken words in that gaze.

“I love you too,” she says.

He kisses her, very gently. And does that amazing internal caress thing with his cock. She nearly vibrates out from underneath him.

He grins with typically male triumph. “Like that, do you?”

“You can be SUCH a bastard sometimes,” she says. (Which is as close as she’s willing to get to a “yes”, in this situation.)

With a lovely love-bite to her throat, he caresses her again. Leaves her out of breath and both exasperated and happy.

She looks to the other member of this little party. Her angle is perfect to see exactly how well they’ve done in terms of getting Jack more actively interested. “Enjoying the show?”

Jack grins. “Yes, actually.”

The Doctor slowly withdraws. Kisses his way down her front with grateful, possessive, leisurely swipes of mouth and tongue. And even though he just shagged her a good one not five minutes ago, she swears she could go again. Everything on her whole body, inside and out, is still tingling from that last amazing orgasm. And oh my god heisnotseriouslygoingto...!

Cool, sensual lips between her legs. She arches off the bench with an incoherent scream. Smooth, strong motions of the Doctor’s mouth against her. (Oh God it’s almost too good to stand!) Roughened fingers hold her hips firmly so she doesn’t shudder her way off the bench. Thorough, slow laps. Rolling her on his tongue. He’s so sodding patient she could kill him and OH GOD PLEASE DON’T STOP!

The room begins to spin. Too much. So good but too much. Her hands barely work right, but she manages to gently but firmly push his head away. With one more lingering kiss to a place she never thought she’d get a real live guy to kiss, let alone lick like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted, the Doctor reluctantly sits up. Reaches over. Pulls over a silver tray with glasses on it. The sound of water or something being poured.

And in another minute, she’ll get her eyes to focus again.

“Hot damn.” Jack accepts the glass the Doctor offered. “So that’s how you leave her speechless.”

She’d glare at him if she could get her eyes to focus right.

Chuckling, Jack slips off the bench. Kneels beside her. Takes a sip from the glass. Bends over her. Sweetness on his lips, like some kind of rich fruit. She kisses him, a hand at the back of his neck. The sweet liquid pours from his mouth to hers. Slips down her throat. She swallows. Feels instantly better. Tastes it when he pulls away. “Thys?”

“Five points to Griffindor.” The Doctor hands her a glass.

“Slytherin,” she corrects. God the stuff tastes good, even if it is a disturbing shade of blue. (Food should not be blue.)

The Doctor shoots her a puzzled look. “Why would you want to be one of the bad guys?”

“Not bad,” she says. “Slytherin’s like me -- bad reputation ‘cause no one really understands ‘em. They’re practical, not evil. They don’t muck about with all the usual B.S. like the Griffindors. Don’t over analyze like the Ravenclaws and aren’t fecking useless like the Hufflepuffs. Sure, get on their bad side and you’ve had it, but in a pinch, I’d rather have a Slytherin guarding my back than any of the overstuffed hero-types from Griffindor.” She takes another slug of the thys. “I mean, Snape’s Slytherin to end all Slytherins, and he’s more loyal to Harry than the rest of that lot put together even though everyone hates him.”

The Doctor looks amused. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you haven’t finished Book 6.”

She glares. “That’s right. And if you spoiler me like you did on with Sirius in Book 5, I will NEVER forgive you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He takes another sip. “But hurry up and finish, would you? Can’t hardly wait to see the look on your face when you see what ol’ Snape’s about.”

Jack looks back and forth between the two of them. “Should I be following this conversation?”

She trades a smile with the Doctor. “He really HAS been hanging out in the past, hasn’t he?”

Jack sulks prettily and sips his drink. “This is a twenty-first century thing, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry, lad,” says the Doctor. “We’ll tell you when you’re older.” He scoops up their now-empty glasses. Sets them on the tray. Stands. Offers them each a hand.

She and Jack exchange an enthusiastic grin and accept their respective hands.

The Doctor pulls them into his arms. “Fancy a shag, anyone?”

Rose can feel the hot hardness of Jack’s new-and-improved equipment against her hip. “Yes, please.”

The Doctor kisses her, then Jack. “Well. Off you go, then.”

“But...?” says Jack.

“You don’t mind,” she is suddenly certain. “Especially if you get to watch.”

There’s a sexy edge to the Doctor’s usual cute smile. “That’s my girl.” He glances at Jack. “Or, more correctly, OUR girl.”

So Jack gives her the bedroom-eyed look to end all bedroom-eyed looks.

Either she snogs Jack first or he snogs her, but it’s so fast and furious she barely has time to think. (Just the way she likes it, apparently. So much for being a good girl with a bad reputation.) Before she can blink, Jack has her pressed up against the wall. Snogs her deep and hard and rough and lovely. Tingling traces of the Doctor’s come trickle down her inner thigh.

Jack throws a glance back at the Doctor. “Could you?”

Smiling, the Doctor does his mind-meld thing again. She gasps at the sweet vertigo that is Jack’s lust and desire for her. Savours the titillation of watching through the Doctor’s eyes as Jack savages her mouth with his. Sexy as hell to feel how much she turns each of them on.

“You said not here,” she manages around the kiss even as she puts her arms ‘round his shoulders.

“I did,” Jack agrees. The full dangerous-sexy flirt is back. “This is just the warm up.”

Grinning, she snogs him harder. Dares him with a kiss.

He pulls back. Spins her around. Presses her face-first to the wall. Kisses his way down her back. Slow, leisurely swipes of his mouth. The soft warmth of the stone beneath her cheek. Her skin on fire from Jack’s touch. Sweet shuddering down her spine from his kisses. Down. Down. Every inch closer to the base of her spine makes it stronger. Better. She... Oh, God, she...! She’s building... She’s going to...

Jack kisses a sweet spot at the base of her spine. Pleasure breaks over her in ways she’d never imagined. (Only Jack could make a girl come from kissing her ass... Or just above her ass.)

Jack stands, hands still hard at her hips. Kisses her cheek.

“Well.” The Doctor’s voice is slightly hoarse with sympathetic lust. “That was different.”

Jack flips her around. Presses her back to the wall. Pulls her knee up. Wraps it around his waist. Fixes her with a heated look. Presses forward. Angles up. Works his way in. Begins a rhythm.

Knocks the breath out of her, it does. Every place the Doctor touched inside is alive. Tingling. And the wetness he left behind makes Jack slide more smoothly. Tingling thrusts. Sweet friction. Jack’s body sliding against hers. He angles to one side. Diagonal thrusts with that heavenly cock.

She comes too hard to scream. Clings to him desperately so she won’t fall to the floor.

His breath is rough in her ear. His mind is rough as it twines with hers. (THIS is what I wanted you to feel.) His body is just rough enough, sliding on already swollen and aroused flesh. The tingling slickness of the Doctor’s come lubricates every thrust. Jack bites her shoulder, just hard enough. Re-marks the love-bite the Doctor gave her. Sucks strongly at it. Painpleasuretingling thrusts. Hot. He’s so much hotter than the Doctor. Like being burned alive from within. And the sweat between them, slick and watery. His chest slides against hers. His mouth slides against hers. His body slides inside hers. Part of him. At last. Again. Part of him.

The moment of mutual orgasm is like coming home. (Pun intended.) Building to something all three of them want. She swears a blue streak. Jack cries out, hoarse. Shudders within her. Empties in a molten flood of pleasure. The Doctor shivers in empathy, panting, as aftershock after aftershock ripples through Jack.

(That’s it. She’s going to have each of them at least once a day. Maybe two or three times, if she can stand it. And once more in the shower while they’re getting “clean”.)

Jack buries his head in her shoulder, breathless. Joy. Relief. This. He hasn’t lost this. He wanted this again. He wanted her. He loves her. She can feel it as clearly as if the emotions were her own.

And both of them love the Doctor.

She kisses Jack. Tenderly. Joyfully. He responds with equal intensity. And all the while both of them reach out in turns to the Doctor with minds and hearts.

With one parting mental caress, Doctor gracefully withdraws his mind from theirs. Soon, she’s alone in her head again. It’s both a relief and a bit sad -- a loss of literally mind-blowing intimacy.

And then it’s definitely time for a second round of thys. She manages to collapse to the bench. The Doctor sits. Pillows her head in his lap. Jack lies down on a second bench a bit higher up on the wall. The Doctor trails lazy fingers over Jack’s belly. She drowses for a bit in the sultry heat of the sauna, happier than she’s ever been in her life. Everything throbs pleasantly.

“Thank you, Rose,” says the Doctor softly.

She opens her eyes. Looks up at him. “Whatever for?”

“Everything.” He has a queer sort of introspective look. His mind’s closed to her now, his thoughts his own just as hers are her own, so she can’t be sure what he’s thinking.

It’s such an odd thing to say that she has a moment of foreboding. “You’re not seriously going to try to go back to the ‘we’re just friends’ thing, are you?”

He shakes his head no. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He bites his lip. Closes his eyes in pleasure. Moans at the back of his throat.

Jack slowly draws another of the Doctor’s fingers into his mouth, eyes full of naughty promises. He winks at her.

She winks back. Everything seems so clear when she’s with them, but... “So where does that leave us?” she says.

Jack pauses. The naughty look disappears. “You said I was your fiancé?”

She colours pleasantly at the memory. “I did, but that was on the ship.”

Jack’s eyes are carefully neutral. “Do you want to take it back?”

“No, but...” She is so woefully unprepared to be in this situation. “Usually when one bird loves two blokes, they end up all but killing each other out of jealousy.”

The boys exchange puzzled looks.

“You feel like killing me?” says Jack.

“I feel like doing a lot of things to you.” The Doctor winks. “Killing isn’t one of them.”

Now they’re irritating her. “Well, it’s not like we could all get married or anything.”

The boys wear matching looks of condescending amusement.

“What?” She sits up, annoyed.

Jack smirks at the Doctor. “She’s so quaint, isn’t she?”

“Part of her charm,” the Doctor replies. He takes her hand. Kisses her knuckles with a heated look.

“Not her fault, I suppose,” Jack takes her other hand. Kisses his way across her palm. Thaws her with the gentle rasp of that heavenly tongue. “Relax, honey. We love you just the way you are.”

“Rose?” Ohhhhhhhhh. That dark look in the Doctor’s steely blue eyes. Heaven. His mind caresses hers. Gives her bits and glimpses of what he’d like to do next. The hint of a mental question. (Dear God, the Doctor’s actually asking her permission? Must be a sign of the apocalypse.)

She grins. “Love to. If I can.”

The Doctor stands. Sweeps her up into his arms. She gives a delighted (if overly girly and shrill) shriek. Puts her arms around his neck.

Jack slips down from the upper bench. “Doctor, you are such a romantic.”

The Doctor is happily unrepentant. “Incurable.”

“So.” Jack grins. “Your place or mine?”

“Serious question,” says the Doctor. “Should be decided in a serious manner.”

So of course he and Jack play a quick round of Scissor, Paper, Stone.

And of course Jack wins.

“My place,” says Jack, grinning wider.

“I suppose you’ll want your arsenal again,” she teases.

“Don’t leave home without it,” says Jack. He pauses by the entrance to the cave. “Only this time...?”

“Hmm?” Rose pillows her head on the Doctor’s shoulder, truly happy for the first time in her life. (She’s going to have them again if she can manage it.)

Jacks’ eyes shift to the Doctor. “Would you... show her?”

A slow grin becomes manic enthusiasm. “Fantastic!”

Jack grins. “Race ya!”

Rose hugs the Doctor’s neck as he carries her out the cave entrance and toward Jack’s room.

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Crossposted to: time_and_chips, better_with_3