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51stcenturyfoxTitle: Gossip
Author: 51st Century Fox
Pairing: Jack/John
Rating: NC-17 for sex/language
Wordcount: 533
Summary: You can lose a lot in a five-year time loop. Like your mind. Better keep your sense of humor.
Crossposted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
torchwood_decaf and galactic_conman
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If it's sanity you are after there is no recipe like laughter." - Henry Elliott
Two weeks turned into two months, then three. As their alarm mounted, they spoke less often of the whys and the what-ifs.
“It could be forever, this... time loop nightmare fuckup they’ve dropped us into.”
“Do not say that.” Jack held up a hand to halt the conversation.
“Right. Well. Let’s drink.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
*
“Fuck, the quiet. Tired of it. Have you heard that old joke… ” John began.
“I think I’ve heard all of your jokes by now.”
“Not even close. This one… there’s a bloke – he’s stranded on a deserted planet – and one day a ship whooshes down through the atmosphere and hits, so he digs through steaming chunks of wreckage to get to the capsule, and the crew are, sadly, dead. A pity, that, but a beautiful celebrity is in there as a passenger. You know, someone he’s got a huge crush on. Daily wank material.” John took a long pull of third-rate home-distilled hypervodka.
“This isn’t a necrophilia joke, is it?”
John looked at him. “Give me some fucking credit, Gorgeous. Standards. So he rescues her and, being that it’s just the two of them, they get together. It’s like his dream come true. But after a few months of bedded bliss, he seems sort of… despondent.”
“You know that word? Or do you mean horny?”
“Shut up. He’s despondent, and the famous celebrity asks him, ‘What’s wrong, honey? Is there anything I can do?’
“So he says, ‘Yeah, I’m lonely. I miss my best mate. Could you wear this hat?’ He hands her the hat and draws a fake moustache on her with a chunk of lignite and tells her, ‘go stand over there’. So she’s game, and she does it. Then he walks up and says, ‘Oi old mate! You alright’?’ And the woman answers in this gruff voice, ‘Hey there, what’s new with you?’ and the bloke grabs her by the shoulders and says, ‘You would not believe who I’m shagging!’”
Jack burst out laughing. “Well, I’m no celebrity.”
John cuffed his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “The joke wasn’t about you, egomaniac.”
“You would boast though.”
“That I would,” John said, and threw his empty bottle at the wall. They sat in silence.
“Also, who does he wank to, now?” Jack said.
“Exactly.”
“What a nightmare.”
*
Jack’s turn, and he was buried deep within John, his hands smoothing hard down his lover’s hips like a sluice of hot water.
John opened his mouth, about to say... something incoherent when he felt rather than heard the harsh whisper against the side of his neck.
“Andrea.”
John felt Jack go still and his back stiffen.
“I’m surprised it took a year for the wrong name to come out,” John said, after a long pause.
“Fuck. Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s alright," he said, his tone light. "Call me whatever you like... Shakespeare, Mark Antony, Vera...”
“In that case…” Jack resumed the motion slowly, brushing a hand softly through John’s hair.
“Andrea…” he repeated in a low growl, “You would not believe who else I’m shagging.”
John laughed so hard they had to stop. For a while.
Author: 51st Century Fox
Pairing: Jack/John
Rating: NC-17 for sex/language
Wordcount: 533
Summary: You can lose a lot in a five-year time loop. Like your mind. Better keep your sense of humor.
Crossposted to
torchwood_decaf and galactic_conman click for plain text on a white background
If it's sanity you are after there is no recipe like laughter." - Henry Elliott
Two weeks turned into two months, then three. As their alarm mounted, they spoke less often of the whys and the what-ifs.
“It could be forever, this... time loop nightmare fuckup they’ve dropped us into.”
“Do not say that.” Jack held up a hand to halt the conversation.
“Right. Well. Let’s drink.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
*
“Fuck, the quiet. Tired of it. Have you heard that old joke… ” John began.
“I think I’ve heard all of your jokes by now.”
“Not even close. This one… there’s a bloke – he’s stranded on a deserted planet – and one day a ship whooshes down through the atmosphere and hits, so he digs through steaming chunks of wreckage to get to the capsule, and the crew are, sadly, dead. A pity, that, but a beautiful celebrity is in there as a passenger. You know, someone he’s got a huge crush on. Daily wank material.” John took a long pull of third-rate home-distilled hypervodka.
“This isn’t a necrophilia joke, is it?”
John looked at him. “Give me some fucking credit, Gorgeous. Standards. So he rescues her and, being that it’s just the two of them, they get together. It’s like his dream come true. But after a few months of bedded bliss, he seems sort of… despondent.”
“You know that word? Or do you mean horny?”
“Shut up. He’s despondent, and the famous celebrity asks him, ‘What’s wrong, honey? Is there anything I can do?’
“So he says, ‘Yeah, I’m lonely. I miss my best mate. Could you wear this hat?’ He hands her the hat and draws a fake moustache on her with a chunk of lignite and tells her, ‘go stand over there’. So she’s game, and she does it. Then he walks up and says, ‘Oi old mate! You alright’?’ And the woman answers in this gruff voice, ‘Hey there, what’s new with you?’ and the bloke grabs her by the shoulders and says, ‘You would not believe who I’m shagging!’”
Jack burst out laughing. “Well, I’m no celebrity.”
John cuffed his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “The joke wasn’t about you, egomaniac.”
“You would boast though.”
“That I would,” John said, and threw his empty bottle at the wall. They sat in silence.
“Also, who does he wank to, now?” Jack said.
“Exactly.”
“What a nightmare.”
*
Jack’s turn, and he was buried deep within John, his hands smoothing hard down his lover’s hips like a sluice of hot water.
John opened his mouth, about to say... something incoherent when he felt rather than heard the harsh whisper against the side of his neck.
“Andrea.”
John felt Jack go still and his back stiffen.
“I’m surprised it took a year for the wrong name to come out,” John said, after a long pause.
“Fuck. Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s alright," he said, his tone light. "Call me whatever you like... Shakespeare, Mark Antony, Vera...”
“In that case…” Jack resumed the motion slowly, brushing a hand softly through John’s hair.
“Andrea…” he repeated in a low growl, “You would not believe who else I’m shagging.”
John laughed so hard they had to stop. For a while.
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-30 10:07 pm (UTC)