Title: Moral Kiosk
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness/The Master
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: NC-17
Table: 5
Prompt: 97, Slut
Warning: non-con
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.***
"Look at him, Jack. He wants you. And I know you want him. Who wouldn't? You can't hide that from me, you know. Stop pretending that you don't want to have him and do what comes naturally." That soft voice, insidious as a hissing snake, whispering into his ear.
"No." That was the only word Jack wanted to utter -- even though every fiber of his being was begging him to scream yes.
How in the hell could he concentrate on saying no when the Doctor was pressing against him, that slender body molding against his own, those soft mewling sounds of need in his ear almost driving him crazy? It was hard enough to tell himself a firm and emphatic no when he was only looking at the Time Lord.
No, no, and again no. He wasn't going to do this. He wasn't going to let the Master win. Jack clenched his fists at his sides, knowing that he should push the Doctor away from him but not having the heart to do so. Besides, if he did, there was no telling what the Master might do to the Time Lord. That maniac could take it into his head to do anything.
Besides, the Doctor's condition wasn't his fault. Whatever the Master had drugged him with, the way he was acting was all due to that. Jack wasn't going to use something that he couldn't control against him, and he definitely wasn't going to take advantage of it.
"Do you need some more provocation, Jack?" The Master's voice was still soft in his ear, almost making him flinch away. But he wasn't going to show that kind of weakness; he wasn't going to let the Master see that this facade was almost impossible to keep up. "Perhaps I can help you with that. A little visual stimulation might be useful."
Jack's fists clenched again as the Master moved from where he was standing, just behind Jack's shoulder, to move behind the Doctor. The immortal's body stiffened when the Master's hands rose, ready to do anything he might have to do to protect the Time Lord. A fine job he'd done of that already, he told himself bitterly. If he'd been more vigilant, they wouldn't be in this mess.
The Master's hands moved to the buttons of the Doctor's suit jacket, unfastening them and pulling the garment off, tossing it carelessly on the floor. "I'm sure you'd be much more inclined to .... perform .... if he was naked, wouldn't you? Besides, he's lovely to look at out of his clothes." The Master laughed, the corners of his lips curling disdainfully. "After all, I should know."
Jack didn't answer; the comment didn't deserve words. He could feel his breath coming faster, his traitorous body reacting to the idea of seeing the Doctor nude.
Not that he hadn't already seen the Gallifreyan out of his clothes, of course. They'd spent more than enough nights together for that to have been ensured. But this .... this was a perversion of what he felt for the Time Lord. He wasn't going to play whatever sick, twisted game the Master had in mind. He wasn't going to let his relationship with the Doctor be used for the Master's enjoyment.
The other man's hands were moving over the Doctor's body, loosening his tie and pulling it off, then unbuttoning his shirt and stripping it away. Jack wanted to squeeze his eyes closed when those hands moved to the fly of the Doctor's trousers; he knew from experience that the Time Lord didn't wear underpants, and he knew exactly what he'd see once the fabric was pulled down.
The thought of the Master touching the man he loved, those hands on his flesh, was intolerable. He hated to think that this .... this monster -- there was no other word for the Master, in his mind -- had done just as much to the Doctor as he himself had.
Probably more, that little voice in the back of his mind whispered, a voice that he heartily wished he could throttle. He'd probably done things to the Doctor that Jack had only dreamed of -- after all, he had no morals, and there was nothing to stop him from doing anything he wanted with the Time Lord's body -- nothing at all.
He'd probably taken the Doctor in every position possible, teased him and aroused him and made him beg in ways that Jack could only dream of doing in his deepest, most hidden fantasies. All the things that Jack would love to do, but hadn't dared to because he loved the Doctor too much to hurt him in any way.
But the Master had been able to do all those things -- and more. He'd had the Doctor completely, while Jack had held himself back and promised himself that he wouldn't do anything to the Doctor that might remind the Time Lord of the Master, and the pain he'd suffered at his hands.
There were times when he almost hated the Doctor for making him feel that he had to hold back. Almost. But not quite.
And now .... now he had the chance. The chance he'd always wanted.
No. He couldn't do it. He couldn't let the Master push what he felt for the Doctor into another realm; he couldn't twist his emotions into something that would scarcely be recognizable once the Master was finished with them. That was what this maniac wanted. He wanted to force Jack into something he'd regret, something he couldn't take back no matter how badly he might want to.
The Master had unbuttoned and unzipped the Doctor's trousers; he pushed them down the slender man's hips, letting them fall to the floor. He pushed the Doctor forward slightly, making the taller man stumble a bit and step out of the fallen fabric, reaching out both hands to steady himself against Jack's body.
The immortal felt a rush of desire run through him, a wave of heat engulfing him from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. He'd never wanted the Doctor as much as he did at this moment; it was the forbidden fruit syndrome, the chance to do something he'd always wanted to do, to reach out and take what he wanted with no repercussions.
But there would be consequences. He was a fool if he tried to convince himself for one second that there wouldn't be. He would lose the Doctor's trust, once the other man was free of the effects of whatever drug the Master had poured into his system. The Gallifreyan would back away from him, and he'd never be able to regain even a fraction of what he would lose.
Jack had to grit his teeth and clench his fists at his sides to keep from reaching out and touching the Time Lord, sliding his arms around that slender waist and crushing that thin body against his own. He wanted to throw the Doctor down on the floor, kiss him until his lips were bruised, take him in every way that it was possible for two male bodies to unite.
The Doctor was grinding his hips against Jack's, making those soft mewling sounds again -- those sounds that made Jack want to forget his resolutions about what he would and wouldn't do, sweep them aside and follow his natural inclinations.
"He wants you, Jack," the Master said again, watching what the Doctor was doing with a gleam in his eyes. "He doesn't just want you -- he needs you. Are you going to deny him what he needs when it's so obvious? And you say you love him." The Master shook his head, sighing in mock disappointment. "I can't believe you'd do that to him."
"Fuck you," Jack said, his voice low and menacing. "You can't force me to do anything to him that I know both he and I would regret later. I won't hurt him. You can't make it happen."
"Fuck me?" The Master's brows rose as he approached the two of them, his eyes narrowing as his gaze met Jack's. "No, I don't think so. You're going to do as I say and fuck him --" One hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of the Doctor's hair and pulling the Time Lord's head back sharply, making the Gallifreyan cry out in pain. ".... Or I will, if you'd prefer that."
"Don't you fucking touch him," Jack hissed between his teeth, clenching his fists again but making sure to keep them at his sides. He wasn't going to give the Master any reason to harm the Doctor, and raising his fists would do just that. He'd backed himself into a corner, he realized; he'd have to tread carefully if he wanted to get them both out of this situation safely.
"What? You mean .... like this?" The Master trailed a hand down the front of the Doctor's body, long fingers wrapping around his cock and stroking slowly. The Doctor moaned softly, leaning back against the Master, his hips flexing with each movement of the other man's hand.
"Stop it." He could barely get the words out between his clenched teeth; he hated standing here and watching the Master touch the man he loved, smirking as though he had every right in the world to fondle the Doctor. And the way that the Time Lord was responding to him .... Jack had to remind himself that it was the drug affecting the Doctor's mind and making him do this.
"He's such a little slut, isn't he?" The Master's voice almost sounded affectionate, his other hand tightening in the Doctor's hair and pulling his head back further, making the Time Lord whimper softly in the back of his throat. "If you won't give him what he needs, then I certainly will. You can't intend to leave him like this, Jack. Not when you want him as much as you do."
"No, he isn't. You know damn well it's just the drug you gave him." Jack's anger was growing with each word he choked out; all he wanted to do was reach out and take the Master's neck between his hand, squeeze with all his strength, strangle those words in his throat. But he couldn't. The Master had his hands on the Doctor, and he wasn't going to risk the Time Lord's life.
"Oh, you don't know him very well, then, Jack." The Master's smile grew as he looked from the Doctor to the immortal. "He's always been a slut. At least .... he is for me. He's very obedient, you know. Just like a well-trained dog. He may struggle, but he always gives in to me, in the end. In fact, you could say he .... comes when I call."
"Let him go." Jack's voice was low and almost menacing; he might not be able to do anything to help the Doctor, but he could at least try to be intimidating and hope that worked.
"You make me laugh." The Master was pulling the Doctor backwards, moving him towards the low bed in the center of the room. "If you won't give him what he wants from you, then it's my duty to do it. You should have realized that before you held to your high moral ground, Captain. He's mine, Jack. Mine by default, since you apparently don't want him."
"I never said I didn't want him!" The words burst out before Jack could stop them. He could see the Master's grip on the Doctor's hair tighten as he pulled the Time Lord back towards the bed, hear the soft whimper of pain from the Gallifreyan. He couldn't make a move to get the Doctor away, not while the Master held the upper hand.
"Too late, Jack." The Master pushed the Doctor down on the bed, turning him over onto his stomach and spreading his legs apart. "Much too late. You've made your choice. Too bad for him. You would have been much more gentle with him than I'm going to be."
"I won't watch this." Jack started to turn away, to head for the door. He hated himself for leaving the Doctor in this kind of situation, but he couldn't stay there and watch. He couldn't be a witness to the Doctor being abused. He would stay outside, hearing the Time Lord's cries and hating himself for being the cause of them -- then do his best to pick up the pieces afterwards.
The Master's next words froze him in his tracks, making him turn around slowly to face the two figures on the bed again. "Yes, you will. You'll watch everything I do to him, or he'll suffer in ways that you can't even begin to imagine." The Master twined his fingers through the Doctor's hair again, pulling his head back roughly and fastening his mouth on the Time Lord's throat.
When he pulled away, there was an angry red bite mark on the pale skin. Jack's heart thumped painfully in his chest; if he knew the Master, this was just the beginning. He couldn't watch this. He'd hate himself even more than he already did.
But he had no choice. Not while the Master had the Doctor prisoner. There was no telling what he would do to the Time Lord if Jack turned away again, and he couldn't risk anything else happening to the man he loved. What was already going to happen was bad enough -- and it was his fault. No one to blame but himself.
"You'll watch, Jack." The Master's voice was low and sibilant again, each word sounding like the hissing of a snake ready to strike. "You'll watch everything I do to him -- and maybe you'll learn something about what your precious Doctor really wants."
Jack fastened his eyes on the wall, facing the bed but trying his best not to look at the two people there. But he couldn't keep his eyes away from the Doctor; the Time Lord's dark eyes were on him, the expression on his face a mixture of reproach and longing. Jack couldn't make himself meet that gaze; he knew that he'd break down if he did.
If they were lucky, this wouldn't last long. And if they were very lucky, the Master would let him take the Doctor and go when it was over. And maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't destroy them.
"Are you watching, Jack?" The Master was on top of the Doctor now, lifting his slender hips and positioning himself behind the Time Lord. Jack didn't answer, instead squeezing his eyes shut when the Master thrust himself into the man beneath him, the Doctor's agonized scream ringing in his ears.
All he could do was stand here and pray that it would be over soon. And hope that he could get through viewing this without being reduced to a sobbing, pleading mess.
By the time the Doctor came, that hope was long dead.***
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- Amazon.com - Torchwood: Children of Earth
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