Marked - Ninth Doctor/Jack - NC-17

Title: Marked
Author/Artist: Penemuel (g_shadowslayer)
Requestor: by_starkiller
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Doctor (Nine)/Jack
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3043 per PocketWord
Warnings: wall-sex tease, body modification
Summary: Jack is the Doctor's -- he just needs a little reminding every now and then.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em -- just playing. If I did own them, Eccleston would have stayed more than one season, and Jack would've come in earlier.
A/N: Written for slashfest This was my request: Nine/Jack The Doctor is possessive by nature and does not share. So he does not take well to his lover flirting with another man. As dark as you like, nc17, no non-con/dub-con, scat, water sports or bestiality, please. Anything else goes. Established relationship, bottom!Jack. My thanks to the mod for the extension -- this past month has been a bit of a mess.


Marked
by Penemuel

In retrospect, Jack had to admit that he just might have engineered things that way on purpose; that he had fully intended to get the Doctor riled up enough to bring out his dangerous side. But when the Time Lord walked into the bar and stopped short, glaring death at his contact as the man leaned in and squeezed his cock through his jeans, Jack looked up in shock. He was rock hard, squirming in his seat, his lips kiss swollen -- but that wasn't the thing that drew the Doctor's gaze and made him growl. No, it was the hickey on his neck. The fact that he had dared to allow another man to mark him...

As the Doctor drew closer, Jack murmured, "I... um, have to go now."

"Aww, come on, Baby, we're just getting started..." the other man answered, big hand dropping into his lap again and rubbing his cock through his pants. Jack couldn't help groaning and thrusting into the rough caress, his cock throbbing with need. But the Doctor stopped next to their booth and grabbed the man's arm. "Hey, what are you--"

"He says he has to go. Let 'im go," the Doctor said quietly, the menace in his tone unmistakable.

"Yeah, all right, sorry. Sheesh -- what, are you his pimp?"

"I dunno, Jack, is that what I am?"

Jack scrambled out of the booth, his cock still straining against his pants, and shook his head, but when he opened his mouth to speak the Doctor just grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the bar. Jack moaned, the rough treatment making his cock throb in his pants, all common sense fleeing in the face of the Doctor's anger.

The Doctor tugged him down the street until they reached an alley, then shoved him in and stood blocking the entrance, his arms folded as he looked Jack up and down. "Are you pleased with yourself?" he finally asked, fastening his intense gaze on the hickey on his lover's neck.

"You said we needed the information, I did what I had to to get it," Jack said defensively. Underneath the anger and possessiveness there was a slight tone of hurt, and he didn't want to be the one who caused the Doctor more pain. He wanted to be the one who could take the pain away. Heat flooding his cheeks, he ducked his gaze and reached up to probe at his neck in tacit admission of his guilt.

Something dangerous and brittle glittered in those intense eyes, then the Doctor growled, "You let him mark you..." The hurt was gone, and the anger and possessiveness was back double-fold. Jack gasped as the Doctor shoved him back against the rough brick of the building and pinned him there with his body, one strong hand tangled in his hair, tilting his head back to bare his neck. "You. Let. Him. Mark. You."

Jack bit back a moan, arousal blazing through him, his knees weak and his cock twitching in his pants. The tiny part of his rational mind that remained tried to point out that he should be afraid of the Time Lord in this state, but there was no fear. There was nothing except searing arousal and need, and the overwhelming desire to submit to anything and everything the Doctor wanted to do to him.

The Doctor ground against him, murmured, "Is that for me or for him, Jack?"

Jack whimpered and panted hotly, spread his legs to allow the Doctor to press a lean thigh between them. "All for you, Doctor," he answered, his voice ragged with arousal. "Yours -- only yours!"

The Doctor growled, then, and Jack moaned as the grip on his hair tightened. "I think I'm going to have to find a way to remind you of that fact, my Jack..." That rough purr held so much threat and so much promise Jack groaned and thrust against his thigh helplessly, teetering on the edge of orgasm.

And then the Doctor released him and stepped back, and he couldn't help reaching for him and crying out, "No!" Trembling with need, he looked up to see the Doctor giving him a knowing look, those intense eyes sweeping over his aroused body. "Ohh fuck..." he breathed, and he tried to stand without leaning against the wall.

"Can you make it?" the Doctor asked gently, and then when he nodded his answer, the threat and possessiveness was back full force. "Get in the TARDIS, Jack, and don't stop until you're in my room. Once you're in there, stand perfectly still, fully clothed, and don't touch yourself. Am I clear?"

It took Jack a moment to find his voice, then he answered crisply, "Yes, Sir!" and immediately obeyed. He didn't see the Doctor's sly smile or the heated look the Time Lord gave his backside as he walked, but part of him could feel it all the same.

Once he stood in the Doctor's room, Jack's imagination began working overtime. The longer the Time Lord spent out in the rest of the TARDIS, the more his curiosity and anticipation grew. The throbbing of his cock barely waned, his body reacting to the mental image of the Doctor as he replayed the events in his mind. And then there was the very solid presence of the compact laser deluxe to think about. He wanted to remove it without any of the Doctor's comments about him having 'a gun up his bum', although he knew that would be against orders. And right now there was no way he'd go against orders.

So, instead, he stared at the Doctor's bed and let himself imagine the Doctor pinning him down in it and having his way with him. He was so distracted by his fantasy that he didn't hear the Doctor come up behind him, and the first clue he had that the Time Lord was there was a softly growled, "Such an obedient lad," from directly behind him. To his credit, he managed not to yelp, only twitch a little in reaction.

Then the Doctor stalked around him, prowling like a big cat, all sensual and predatory grace. Jack swallowed hard at the heat in his eyes, wanting him so fiercely at this point that he was sure his body and mind resonated with it. Somehow he managed to keep quiet, other than the soft whimper he let out as the Doctor's hand gripped his chin and turned his head to one side so he could study the hickey. "This? Isn't going to happen again, Jack."

"No, Sir!"

"Ah, you talk a good game, but I know you. You like pushing me..." The Doctor licked his lips and studied Jack's face, then slowly smiled. "Hope you're ready for what you're going to get now, Love." And then suddenly the rough purr became a forceful order, "Strip, now, then get on the bed, face down."

Jack swallowed again, the only indication that he might be nervous at all; quickly and efficiently stripped his clothes off and strode to the bed. He was hyper-aware of his cock bobbing with every move, of how the Doctor's eyes on him kept his arousal at a near-boil, and when he climbed onto the bed and settled with his legs spread he couldn't hold back the soft groan. A moment later he heard the Doctor tugging off his own clothes, then the bed dipped as the Time Lord joined him on it.

Strong hands gripped his arse cheeks and he moaned, grinding into the bed, too turned on to stop himself. There was a soft growl, and then the Doctor ordered, "Relax 'em." Jack did as ordered, and felt him touching the grip of the laser. There was a pause, and then he withdrew it and tossed it aside. "Well, I guess I should be glad you weren't planning on him fucking you," he murmured. "I'm not really sure I want you to, but one of these days you'll have to tell me why you carry that, Love..."

Jack tried not to squirm, wanting the Doctor's fingers or cock or anything in him, and a moment later, when the Doctor reached under the pillow for the lube they both knew was there, he whimpered hungrily. He spread his legs further, knowing he was being a slut and in all honesty not caring one bit. Then two slick fingers rubbed between his arse cheeks and over his hole. He cried out, relieved that the Doctor hadn't ordered him to be quiet -- he knew he could be noisy during sex, but he didn't believe in holding back. He also knew the Doctor liked it, no matter how much he might complain at times.

"You may be a slut, Jack, but you're my slut," the Doctor purred, continuing to tease Jack's hole, beginning to press in and rub.

Jack whimpered and squirmed, trying to press back and impale himself on the Doctor's fingers; moaned hotly as the Doctor finally pressed in deep. "Ah god, Doctor, more, please!" he panted, spreading his legs further and squirming into the bed then back onto the fingers.

"Fuck, Jack," the Doctor hissed, pulling his fingers out only long enough to squirt more lube on them. Then he roughly shoved all four in back in, groan-growling as Jack's muscles flexed around them.

Jack cried out something that might have been 'ohfuckthat'sgood,' and the Doctor began finger fucking him in earnest, thrusting deep and rubbing over his prostate almost mercilessly. He moaned and squirmed, thrust forward into the bed to try to get some friction on his aching cock, then pressed back onto the Doctor's fingers. "So good so good oh fuck yes!" he murmured, his body eagerly taking all it was getting and greedily wanting more.

"Oh, I know you, Jack, you could easily take my whole fist and still want more. My sexy slut. My sexy slut," the Doctor murmured, watching him squirm and writhe and trying to concentrate as his own cock throbbed with his need. "But I'm not going to fuck you yet..."

"Please!" Jack whined, pressing back and clenching his muscles, moaning hotly as the Doctor pressed and rubbed so deep inside him. "Oh god, please, Doctor -- need you!"

"Remember that the next time you let some stranger touch you like that," the Doctor growled possessively, and Jack shuddered with arousal at the sound of his voice.

"Please, Doctor. I'm sorry -- oh fuck!" He moaned again as a shiver of pleasure passed through him, then, "I'm yours, Doctor. All yours -- only yours. Please!"

"Going to make sure they all know it, too," the Doctor growled, slowly withdrawing his fingers and wiping the lube from them on a small towel he had draped on the side of the bed. Jack let out a needy, keening sound at the emptiness, then promptly stopped as the Doctor gave him a sharp swat on the rump. "Roll over, Jack."

There was no questioning that tone -- Jack rolled onto his back and looked at the Doctor, gasped softly at the look in his lover's eyes. He could tell the Time Lord was still angry, but there was hunger blazing in those stormy eyes, and he moaned hotly as he saw them travel down to his leaking cock. He opened his mouth to beg the Doctor to fuck him, but before he could speak, the Doctor reached to the side and picked up the sonic screwdriver. He raised an eyebrow questioningly, knowing he was starting to grin -- until he saw the look on the Doctor's face.

"What, you think I'm going to fuck you with this, Jack? Oh no, not this time," the Doctor said, reading his expression with ease. "No, this is a different setting. I'm going to make sure you remember you're mine, Love."

"What are you going to do?" Jack asked softly, trusting that the Doctor wouldn't harm him, but not sure of anything beyond that.

The Doctor grinned and brandished the screwdriver, then patted Jack's right thigh and purred, "I'm gonna mark you as mine, Love. Might not be visible like that thing on your neck is, but you'll know it's there, and you'll remember it every time you're thinking of hopping into bed with someone else."

"Mark...me?" Jack whispered, arousal rushing straight to his cock and balls and making him groan hungrily. "Like... a tattoo?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of scarification," the Doctor said, giving Jack a predatory grin when he moaned even louder and squirmed under his hand. "And that turns you on, doesn't it... Ohh, my Jack..." He looked at the screwdriver as he selected a setting, then purred, "I'll try to make sure this hurts just enough, Love."

Jack shivered in anticipation, panting hotly as the Doctor settled himself on the bed comfortably, one arm draped across his leg to keep him from moving it suddenly and ruining his work -- or worse. And then the Time Lord looked up at him once more, just to make sure he was all right, and grinned at what he saw. Jack lay in the bed, his cock blood-dark and leaking, twitching with every beat of his heart. He had propped himself up a little on the pillows, so that he could watch what was going on, his face flushed and his eyes dark with arousal. "I'm ready," he said softly, and then the screwdriver emitted a small whining sound as the Doctor began to work.

He had been expecting the Doctor to use the screwdriver as a surgical cutting device, thinking that perhaps he was going to do it the way the neo-Primitives in the 47th Century did, cutting out a small v-shaped strip of skin for each line. It was all the rage then, and he'd met a woman who had the most exquisite zebra stripes cut into her arms and legs and was starting to get them done on her back. In a way, he was very glad the Doctor wasn't going with that, because she had told him how long the healing period was, and how even to that day she had discomfort when her arms were bound.

Instead, the setting the Doctor chose was similar to a surgical cautery device, and at the first whiff of burned hair and flesh he gasped softly, knowing that while it didn't hurt at the moment, it would soon be throbbing and sending endorphins rushing through him. He tried to concentrate on watching what the Doctor was doing, burning the intricate, intersecting circular patterns that were Gallifreyan script into his thigh; soon, though, the pain began to rise and fog his senses.

At least, it started out as pain, burning and intense; making him want to curl up, pull away from the source of it. He managed to control himself -- with a little help from the Doctor's arm holding him still -- and soon the sensation transformed into a slow, deep throb. It was based in his thigh where the Doctor was working, but it didn't take long to spread, pulsing in his groin and sending shivers of ecstasy through him. He was flying high on endorphins, intoxicated by what the Doctor was doing to him and the implications of it. His Doctor, his lover, was marking him as his, in such a permanent way -- it was primal and primitive, and quite possibly the hottest thing anyone had ever done with or to him.

He moaned continuously, his body overwhelmed by sensation -- when he came, he wasn't even truly aware that he had done so, the pain/pleasure so intense already that he roared out, "Oh fuck YES!" and lay there shuddering in the aftermath of it until the Doctor finished up and put the screwdriver to one side.

"You all right there, Love?" the Doctor asked softly, climbing up the bed to lie next to him.

He still lay trembling, mentally, emotionally and physically overwhelmed, but tried to nod and speak. "I'm... yeah. Good. Fuck, that..."

"Easy, Jack," the Doctor soothed, stroking his hair with one hand and laying the other over his pounding heart. "Easy, Captain, my Captain. Come back to me..." A gentle kiss, then, and Jack let out a soft groan and pulled him close.

"I... I'm all yours," he managed to whisper with a smile, gazing up into those intense eyes with love and adoration.

"Yeah, you are. Now tell me, Love, will you be okay here for a moment by yourself? I need to get the first aid kit. The TARDIS'll watch you, but I need to know if you're okay." His voice was calm and soothing, and as Jack began to come down he clung to every word.

"Wait a little more?" Jack asked, burrowing further into his arms and trying to hear his hearts beating. "I'm good, but I'm still... whoo. I really love you, Doctor."

"Yeah, I know -- and you know what else? I really love you, too, my Jack," the Doctor answered, holding him close until the trembling finally faded. "Yeah, there you go," he soothed, feeling Jack starting to drift to sleep. "I'll be right back."

Jack nodded in his doze and let him climb out of the bed, then soon fell completely asleep. He woke again to the sensations of the Doctor treating his wound, grimaced a bit at the discomfort but sighed at the same time as he thought about what the mark meant. Then the Doctor was done, and back in the bed with him, and holding him close. "Hey," he whispered, "that was incredible, Babe."

"It was, wasn't it?" the Doctor responded with a smile. Then, "Sleep, my Jack. Tomorrow's another day, and we have parts to acquire."

"Yeah. Hey -- tell me, what does it say?" Jack asked, fighting a yawn.

"My mark, there? Same thing I used to put on me books at the Academy -- 'Hands off, all mine!'" the Doctor answered with one of his manic grins. "Or something to that effect, at least -- more a combination of 'hands/feet/tongues/eyes/tentacles' off..."

"Tentacles?!" Jack asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, got to cover all possibilities there, my 51st Century man!"

~~end~~