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filthgoblinTitle: Close to Dancing
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
filthgoblin
Pairing: Jack Harkness/John Hart
Rating: R
Wordcount: 287
Warnings: There's some rough stuff. Set around the fisticuffs in KKBB with added rutting, so there's sex and violence in very close quarters. If that might upset you, probably best look away now.
Notes: Written at the request of51stcenturyfox , who wanted something to fill the gap between Jack and John's fight and the point where the rest of the team shows up in KKBB. Thanks to silvaa and terraswrath for helpful pointers.
Summary: Being kissed by John Hart was a bit like being in a fist-fight
Being kissed by John Hart was a bit like being in a fist-fight, Jack mused, feeling the breath whoosh past his lips as his former partner's compact frame impacted against his ribcage. Rough, grasping hands gripped his shoulders and tugged his hair as their mouths met with a crunch, Jack's lips twisting into a grin. Man, he'd missed this. Suddenly his recent life felt woefully pedestrian as adrenaline mixed with testosterone in a heady cocktail, bringing the present into sharp focus as blood pulsed in time with frantic staccato breaths echoing in his ears.
Only when the first punch landed on Jack's square jaw did the fun really start. The two men fell easily into a familiar two-step, though the moves were a little rusty from lack of practice. Jack bowed to his partner as he welcomed the fist in his gut, returned full-force with a kick in the groin. It was hard to tell which man was leading, but Jack didn't care. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so vital. So alive.
Throughout their scrap it was too close to call. Though he'd flattered himself that he had the upper hand Jack was unsurprised to find himself pinioned against the bar-top, cheek pressed flat into the sticky surface; less than shocked to find himself hard as hell as a result of the tussle; and almost delirious as he realised there was a hand snaking round his waist, unfastening his trousers and tugging hard as John grunted and kicked his ankles apart. There was no preparation, no finesse, just another type of fight. A fight that, even though Jack would later consider he lost, right now felt so much like winning.
Author:
filthgoblin Pairing: Jack Harkness/John Hart
Rating: R
Wordcount: 287
Warnings: There's some rough stuff. Set around the fisticuffs in KKBB with added rutting, so there's sex and violence in very close quarters. If that might upset you, probably best look away now.
Notes: Written at the request of
51stcenturyfox , who wanted something to fill the gap between Jack and John's fight and the point where the rest of the team shows up in KKBB. Thanks to silvaa and terraswrath for helpful pointers.Summary: Being kissed by John Hart was a bit like being in a fist-fight
Being kissed by John Hart was a bit like being in a fist-fight, Jack mused, feeling the breath whoosh past his lips as his former partner's compact frame impacted against his ribcage. Rough, grasping hands gripped his shoulders and tugged his hair as their mouths met with a crunch, Jack's lips twisting into a grin. Man, he'd missed this. Suddenly his recent life felt woefully pedestrian as adrenaline mixed with testosterone in a heady cocktail, bringing the present into sharp focus as blood pulsed in time with frantic staccato breaths echoing in his ears.
Only when the first punch landed on Jack's square jaw did the fun really start. The two men fell easily into a familiar two-step, though the moves were a little rusty from lack of practice. Jack bowed to his partner as he welcomed the fist in his gut, returned full-force with a kick in the groin. It was hard to tell which man was leading, but Jack didn't care. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so vital. So alive.
Throughout their scrap it was too close to call. Though he'd flattered himself that he had the upper hand Jack was unsurprised to find himself pinioned against the bar-top, cheek pressed flat into the sticky surface; less than shocked to find himself hard as hell as a result of the tussle; and almost delirious as he realised there was a hand snaking round his waist, unfastening his trousers and tugging hard as John grunted and kicked his ankles apart. There was no preparation, no finesse, just another type of fight. A fight that, even though Jack would later consider he lost, right now felt so much like winning.
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Date: 2009-01-05 03:53 pm (UTC)