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m_findlowTitle: Stuck in the middle
Jack woke up in a tangle of sheets, fighting against them as they threatened to strangle him. He'd been tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep. He fought them off long enough for something else to wrap around him - the arm of his bedfellow, which moved of its own volition in sleep, making sure Jack didn't stray too far. The arm came to rest across his chest, long, slender fingers draping over his pectoral. The hand glistened with its array of rings and bracelets - the reward from one of their many jobs - each of them warm against his skin. Jack's hand drifted up to touch them, fingertips tracing around the diamonds set into the heavy gold metal bands.
John didn't take them off, not even when they were otherwise totally naked, soaked in the sweat of each other's bodies. Jack didn't know if it was because he just loved the sight of them adorning his fingers like that, or whether he thought Jack was going to double cross him one day, stealing them and making a run for it. Not that Jack probably couldn't slide them off whilst he was sleeping. Sweet goddesses, but that man could snore!
Jewelry didn't interest Jack. He still carried memories of old Time Agency missions gone awry, chained and bound until he could finally make his escape. He didn't like the feel of metal anywhere near his neck or hands. Only his trusty leather wrist strap with its all important vortex manipulator technology proved an exception to the rule. Just like John's rings, Jack's wrist strap never came off. It was his lifeline, his ticket to adventure and, when things got hairy, his ultimate escape route.
Was that what got him thinking about it now? Escaping? John was the one person in his life he could trust - well, insofar as he was reliably untrustworthy. Then again, they'd screwed each other over so many times he'd lost count, both of them hungry for something a bit more than a fifty-fifty share of their ill-gotten gains. But then they always fell back into bed and screwed each other in other ways and all was forgiven. He felt physically attracted to John, and he enjoyed that they could go wild and experiment without having to worry about feelings or relationship entanglements.
So what was it that was making him suddenly rethink their status quo? Wasn't he happy here? They had fun, made lots of money along the way, then enjoyed themselves a bit more as they spent it. Jack had always loved the thrill of the chase, but somehow the basking in glory at the end of it seemed to have lost some of its sheen and novelty. The thievery and con artistry had been like a game, but how much could they keep doing this before they double-crossed the wrong person? They'd already made a tidy profit in the last year or two and could have made it last comfortably for a while, but John was always thinking about the next job. Apart from their next romp in bed, it was pretty much all he thought about.
How had Jack ended up here? He knew the answer of course. Bitterness at his last assignment as a fully fledged Time Agent, which had wiped out two whole years of his memories, had tipped him over the edge. He couldn't get them back and no one within the Agency would help him, which only confirmed for him that they'd been the ones to do it. He'd felt hurt and betrayed, and so he'd walked out on them, taken his vortex manipulator with him and told them he needed some time off. Only he had no intention of returning. Like many agents before him, he'd simply disappeared, unable to be traced, or perhaps not wanted to be found. John had left sometime before him, though far less diplomatically - effectively a rogue agent on the run. It hadn't taken him long to hear about Jack's plight and track him down. One Time Agent always knew where to find another. More importantly, John understood his pain and who he was deep down. They'd been scamming and swindling ever since.
Jack could scarcely believe how much he'd changed. Once upon a time he'd been the Agency's star cadet, a promising young agent destined for big things. When he'd been given the task of being John's partner and handler, he'd hated it. John was everything that gave the Time Agency a bad name, and Jack had been tasked with pulling him back into line. It was the one assignment Jack had never completed successfully. Now, here he was, aiding and abetting the man he'd been meant to reform. He was no better than John. Maybe worse, because he knew he was doing the wrong thing and didn't care. John was simply so pathologically bad that he didn't have a concept of wrong. It had been fun for a while and perhaps it still was to some extent. Jack had needed to exorcise the feelings of abandonment the Agency had left him with, and to get back at them by doing the sorts of things they might have previously policed. It was the kind of petulant, juvenile behaviour that should have been wrung out of him by now but never had been because he'd never exhibited it before.
He doubted he could go back to them now. It was more than his pride could take, fronting up to his going AWOL and serving whatever punishment they deemed fit. They'd made him live this life, stealing to get by. The resentment curdled inside him.
He ran a hand down John's torso, tracing over the tight abdomen and working his hand lower. The man might sleep like a bear but he knew when someone was working on getting him going. Jack needed the sexual gratification to distract him from all his other thoughts and that was one thing with John that would never get old.
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, John Hart
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG.
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 122 - Novelty at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
fandomweeklySummary: Jack is caught between his old life and his new one, which isn't as good as he'd thought it would be.
Jack woke up in a tangle of sheets, fighting against them as they threatened to strangle him. He'd been tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep. He fought them off long enough for something else to wrap around him - the arm of his bedfellow, which moved of its own volition in sleep, making sure Jack didn't stray too far. The arm came to rest across his chest, long, slender fingers draping over his pectoral. The hand glistened with its array of rings and bracelets - the reward from one of their many jobs - each of them warm against his skin. Jack's hand drifted up to touch them, fingertips tracing around the diamonds set into the heavy gold metal bands.
John didn't take them off, not even when they were otherwise totally naked, soaked in the sweat of each other's bodies. Jack didn't know if it was because he just loved the sight of them adorning his fingers like that, or whether he thought Jack was going to double cross him one day, stealing them and making a run for it. Not that Jack probably couldn't slide them off whilst he was sleeping. Sweet goddesses, but that man could snore!
Jewelry didn't interest Jack. He still carried memories of old Time Agency missions gone awry, chained and bound until he could finally make his escape. He didn't like the feel of metal anywhere near his neck or hands. Only his trusty leather wrist strap with its all important vortex manipulator technology proved an exception to the rule. Just like John's rings, Jack's wrist strap never came off. It was his lifeline, his ticket to adventure and, when things got hairy, his ultimate escape route.
Was that what got him thinking about it now? Escaping? John was the one person in his life he could trust - well, insofar as he was reliably untrustworthy. Then again, they'd screwed each other over so many times he'd lost count, both of them hungry for something a bit more than a fifty-fifty share of their ill-gotten gains. But then they always fell back into bed and screwed each other in other ways and all was forgiven. He felt physically attracted to John, and he enjoyed that they could go wild and experiment without having to worry about feelings or relationship entanglements.
So what was it that was making him suddenly rethink their status quo? Wasn't he happy here? They had fun, made lots of money along the way, then enjoyed themselves a bit more as they spent it. Jack had always loved the thrill of the chase, but somehow the basking in glory at the end of it seemed to have lost some of its sheen and novelty. The thievery and con artistry had been like a game, but how much could they keep doing this before they double-crossed the wrong person? They'd already made a tidy profit in the last year or two and could have made it last comfortably for a while, but John was always thinking about the next job. Apart from their next romp in bed, it was pretty much all he thought about.
How had Jack ended up here? He knew the answer of course. Bitterness at his last assignment as a fully fledged Time Agent, which had wiped out two whole years of his memories, had tipped him over the edge. He couldn't get them back and no one within the Agency would help him, which only confirmed for him that they'd been the ones to do it. He'd felt hurt and betrayed, and so he'd walked out on them, taken his vortex manipulator with him and told them he needed some time off. Only he had no intention of returning. Like many agents before him, he'd simply disappeared, unable to be traced, or perhaps not wanted to be found. John had left sometime before him, though far less diplomatically - effectively a rogue agent on the run. It hadn't taken him long to hear about Jack's plight and track him down. One Time Agent always knew where to find another. More importantly, John understood his pain and who he was deep down. They'd been scamming and swindling ever since.
Jack could scarcely believe how much he'd changed. Once upon a time he'd been the Agency's star cadet, a promising young agent destined for big things. When he'd been given the task of being John's partner and handler, he'd hated it. John was everything that gave the Time Agency a bad name, and Jack had been tasked with pulling him back into line. It was the one assignment Jack had never completed successfully. Now, here he was, aiding and abetting the man he'd been meant to reform. He was no better than John. Maybe worse, because he knew he was doing the wrong thing and didn't care. John was simply so pathologically bad that he didn't have a concept of wrong. It had been fun for a while and perhaps it still was to some extent. Jack had needed to exorcise the feelings of abandonment the Agency had left him with, and to get back at them by doing the sorts of things they might have previously policed. It was the kind of petulant, juvenile behaviour that should have been wrung out of him by now but never had been because he'd never exhibited it before.
He doubted he could go back to them now. It was more than his pride could take, fronting up to his going AWOL and serving whatever punishment they deemed fit. They'd made him live this life, stealing to get by. The resentment curdled inside him.
He ran a hand down John's torso, tracing over the tight abdomen and working his hand lower. The man might sleep like a bear but he knew when someone was working on getting him going. Jack needed the sexual gratification to distract him from all his other thoughts and that was one thing with John that would never get old.
