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51stcenturyfoxTitle: Rude Introduction
Author: 51stCenturyFox
Pairing: Jack Harkness/John Hart
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~1,449
Warnings: Language/Slash. Pre-Spoilers for Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. Pre-Spoilers. Weird, ain't it?
Notes/Summary: The tale of how Jack and John first became acquainted. For the purposes of this story, Jack’s real name is Jack, and John Hart’s real name is…John Hart.
John Hart introduced himself to Jack by stealing his girl.
To be fair, she wasn’t his… yet, but the night was young and Jack had Katia where he wanted her after a few hours: disarmed and charmed by stories about life on the Boeshane Peninsula. Not the… difficult stories, but it hadn’t all been shit.
The blonde lived down the hall in the dormitory and he’d flirted with her mercilessly until she’d finally caved and agreed to a night of dancing. Jack usually didn’t have to go to this much effort for a partner but hey, he did relish a challenge. Plus, he’d been so focused on graduation, on not fucking this up, that he hadn’t done anything purely fun in ages.
He’d squeezed through the crowded bar on his way back from the bathroom to find another man’s knuckles heading up the inside of Katia’s thigh as he kissed her neck. When she opened her eyes and saw Jack standing there the unfocused look in them said something like: “Whuzz?”
He cleared his throat and the stranger on Katia froze mid-kiss, licked her collarbone and turned around.
She shuddered involuntarily and gestured at the man standing between her legs.
“Uh, this, this is… um…” she stumbled.
“John Hart,” the man supplied. His eyes sparkled as he smiled at Jack and offered his hand (the hand not still stroking Katia’s thigh), “and you are…?”
Jack’s eyes caught Katia’s for a moment and she glanced away quickly. That gave him his answer.
“Leaving.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of her chair, turned and strode towards the door, but a hand caught his arm on the way.
“Look, why don’t you stay, mate? Three isn’t exactly a crowd…” John Hart said, as he quirked an eyebrow in invitation.
“No, it’s fine. I have class in the morning so…”
“Academy?” He asked Jack. A fair guess. The bar was a recruit haunt, fewer than two clicks from the Time Agency training facility.
“Class 24B. Same as her. That’s Katia, by the way,” he spit out the words.
“22A here, just ahead of you. Look, ” he said again, “Come on, I’m…”
“Forget it. You kids have fun. Can I have my arm back?” Jack pulled away and threw on his leather jacket as he pushed back though the crowd to the exit.
“Actually, I’d had my eye on her for quite a while,” John told him quietly in the hallway a week later. Jack had bumped into him on his way back from a run. John waved his hand before Katia’s door sensor to lock it and crossed his arms across his chest.
“What, five minutes?” He’d heard a few things about John Hart, and now that he could put a (just admit it, pretty) face to the name, he wasn’t surprised. Legendary predator. And usually successful.
“Possessive. But hey, okay. Whatever." Hart shrugged and walked away, his voice fading as he muttered to himself.
"Try to be friendly, nice, honest. For once and what do you get? Shite, that’s what.”
Jack just shook his head.
There was a soft staccato rap at the door.
“Who is it?” Jack called out, only to be answered by another low knock. He got off the bed, stumbled (one foot had been asleep) and cracked the door to find John Hart leaning on the frame, his eyes shifting up the hall and back.
“Can I come in? Bitch is on the warpath.”
Jack reluctantly opened the door the rest of the way.
John stepped in and splayed his body over a chair. He pulled a flask from his chest pocket and unscrewed the top.
“What a dump. Drink?”
“No, thanks.”
“What are you doing locked up in here on a Friday night?”
“Studying.” Jack situated himself back on his bed and raised an open book.
“Ooh, a bound book. Primitive,” John said, taking a deep swig and waving the flask, “Sure you don’t want a pull, gorgeous?”
“I’m positive.”
“You’re not a teetotaler, are you?” John asked, making the word sound like “serial killer.”
Jack shook his head and went back to reading.
“What are you studying?” John asked, after a moment.
“Histogeography. Rift activity sites and cultural effects.”
“Which system?”
“62. That would be Earth.”
“Ah yes, APRICOT,” John counted on his fingers, “Alexandria, Petra, Roswell, Istanbul, Cardiff, Oslo, Teotihuacan.”
“Istanbul isn’t one.”
“It is!” He stood and walked over to Jack, claiming the book. He scanned the page. “Fuck, you’re right, it’s not.”
“Invercargill. Guess you should hit some primitive books,“ Jack said, pointedly. He held his hand out for the tome and wiggled his fingers. “Give it up.”
“Why so tense?” John tucked the book under his arm and continued, “Come on, come out and party with me. Test is what, Monday? I’ll lend you my data files on rifts.”
Jack gave him a look and sighed, “Wow, what an offer. Istanbul? I don’t think I need your study guide. ”
John threw up his hands, letting the book drop to the bed where Jack took the opportunity to rescue it.
“I get it, beautiful. You’re still pissed off about Blondie. Go knock on her door then. You can have her. She’s irrational and bizarrely, jealous. Also, she has a bug up her arse resembling yours so you two should get on. ”
John went to the door and opened it a crack, peered out and then stepped into the hallway.
“See ya later, Jackie Joyless!” he said, and left with an entirely unnecessary door slam.
Jack rolled his eyes.
Jack leaned against the wall as the room spun. He’d never felt this sick, this weak. Ever. He could feel the edges of his vision start to go black.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Two strong hands caught him, held him up. John Hart.
“Agent recruits, clear out!” called the command sergeant.
“He needs…” John pleaded with the sergeant, “He needs help. A doctor.”
“He'll be fine. Clear OUT,” was the reply.
“Come on, with me,” John told Jack as he looped an arm around the taller man’s waist and led him outside.
“Wanna lie down,” Jack mumbled, faintly.
“Not here. My room’s closest.” John walked with Jack to the next building, practically holding him up. He led him to his room and dropped him onto the bed. Jack coughed weakly as he tried to sit up.
“Hold it, don’t yak on the rug,” John warned as he grabbed a wastebasket and set it next to the bed.
Jack leaned back onto the pillows and felt his feet being hoisted on to the bed and a tug on his boots.
The soft twist of John’s smile was the last thing he saw before he passed out.
Jack awoke to the sight of crossed spears. And a couple of what looked like Samurai swords, hanging on the wall. And to John Hart, wrapped around him like a blanket.
“John?”
“Yeah.”
“Your weapons… are primitive.”
“Retro.”
“Primitive.”
“Shut up.”
“What the hell happened to me in class?” Jack asked.
John leaned onto an elbow and faced him, then traced a finger in circles lightly over his chest. “Vortex sickness, didn’t anyone warn you? If you’re that bad in the simulator, imagine what it’ll be like when you’re on a wrist strap hop.”
“Thanks for the comforting thought.”
“S’alright, anytime,” John laughed.
“Why didn’t you get sick?”
“Because. I know tricks.”
“What tricks?”
“Well,” John said, softly, leaning into Jack’s shoulder, “When traveling through a vortex event, you need to keep your eyes open.”
“Uh huh.”
The hand playing lightly on Jack’s chest roamed lower.
“You need to breathe deeply. “
John inhaled and exhaled slowly to illustrate, his face moving closer to Jack’s as he continued. With one hand, he deftly unbuckled Jack's belt and worked buttons.
“…you need to focus… on a fixed… point.”
Jack complied and their eyes met.
“..and hold on to something …stationary.”
Jack gasped with pleasure.
John’s lips stopped just shy of his and parted with a whisper:
“You won’t find this trick in a book, beautiful”
Or that trick either, Jack realized, when he woke up afterward in handcuffs, John's tongue swirling hotly in just the right spot. Oh God.
The stories he’d heard about John Hart didn’t scratch the surface.
Legend.
Seven months later, Jack shut the door to his room behind him and leaned against it as he fumbled nervously with the envelope containing his first assignment. He opened it carefully and pulled out a sheet of paper.
Code name: Excalibur
Location: System 6224
Mission: Reconnaissance only
Restrictions: Alien interaction/timeline alteration forbidden
Partner: John Hart
He sighed. As much fun as John could be, and he was fun in so many ways, he also wore on Jack’s nerves, when he wasn't, well, shagging him boneless. He dropped the paper, startled, when he heard a gentle staccato rap and a low voice at the door behind him.
"Hey gorgeous. Big news. Open the fucking door."
Good thing it was just a two-week mission.
Fancy Time Agents? More here.
Author: 51stCenturyFox
Pairing: Jack Harkness/John Hart
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~1,449
Warnings: Language/Slash. Pre-Spoilers for Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. Pre-Spoilers. Weird, ain't it?
Notes/Summary: The tale of how Jack and John first became acquainted. For the purposes of this story, Jack’s real name is Jack, and John Hart’s real name is…John Hart.
John Hart introduced himself to Jack by stealing his girl.
To be fair, she wasn’t his… yet, but the night was young and Jack had Katia where he wanted her after a few hours: disarmed and charmed by stories about life on the Boeshane Peninsula. Not the… difficult stories, but it hadn’t all been shit.
The blonde lived down the hall in the dormitory and he’d flirted with her mercilessly until she’d finally caved and agreed to a night of dancing. Jack usually didn’t have to go to this much effort for a partner but hey, he did relish a challenge. Plus, he’d been so focused on graduation, on not fucking this up, that he hadn’t done anything purely fun in ages.
He’d squeezed through the crowded bar on his way back from the bathroom to find another man’s knuckles heading up the inside of Katia’s thigh as he kissed her neck. When she opened her eyes and saw Jack standing there the unfocused look in them said something like: “Whuzz?”
He cleared his throat and the stranger on Katia froze mid-kiss, licked her collarbone and turned around.
She shuddered involuntarily and gestured at the man standing between her legs.
“Uh, this, this is… um…” she stumbled.
“John Hart,” the man supplied. His eyes sparkled as he smiled at Jack and offered his hand (the hand not still stroking Katia’s thigh), “and you are…?”
Jack’s eyes caught Katia’s for a moment and she glanced away quickly. That gave him his answer.
“Leaving.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of her chair, turned and strode towards the door, but a hand caught his arm on the way.
“Look, why don’t you stay, mate? Three isn’t exactly a crowd…” John Hart said, as he quirked an eyebrow in invitation.
“No, it’s fine. I have class in the morning so…”
“Academy?” He asked Jack. A fair guess. The bar was a recruit haunt, fewer than two clicks from the Time Agency training facility.
“Class 24B. Same as her. That’s Katia, by the way,” he spit out the words.
“22A here, just ahead of you. Look, ” he said again, “Come on, I’m…”
“Forget it. You kids have fun. Can I have my arm back?” Jack pulled away and threw on his leather jacket as he pushed back though the crowd to the exit.
“Actually, I’d had my eye on her for quite a while,” John told him quietly in the hallway a week later. Jack had bumped into him on his way back from a run. John waved his hand before Katia’s door sensor to lock it and crossed his arms across his chest.
“What, five minutes?” He’d heard a few things about John Hart, and now that he could put a (just admit it, pretty) face to the name, he wasn’t surprised. Legendary predator. And usually successful.
“Possessive. But hey, okay. Whatever." Hart shrugged and walked away, his voice fading as he muttered to himself.
"Try to be friendly, nice, honest. For once and what do you get? Shite, that’s what.”
Jack just shook his head.
There was a soft staccato rap at the door.
“Who is it?” Jack called out, only to be answered by another low knock. He got off the bed, stumbled (one foot had been asleep) and cracked the door to find John Hart leaning on the frame, his eyes shifting up the hall and back.
“Can I come in? Bitch is on the warpath.”
Jack reluctantly opened the door the rest of the way.
John stepped in and splayed his body over a chair. He pulled a flask from his chest pocket and unscrewed the top.
“What a dump. Drink?”
“No, thanks.”
“What are you doing locked up in here on a Friday night?”
“Studying.” Jack situated himself back on his bed and raised an open book.
“Ooh, a bound book. Primitive,” John said, taking a deep swig and waving the flask, “Sure you don’t want a pull, gorgeous?”
“I’m positive.”
“You’re not a teetotaler, are you?” John asked, making the word sound like “serial killer.”
Jack shook his head and went back to reading.
“What are you studying?” John asked, after a moment.
“Histogeography. Rift activity sites and cultural effects.”
“Which system?”
“62. That would be Earth.”
“Ah yes, APRICOT,” John counted on his fingers, “Alexandria, Petra, Roswell, Istanbul, Cardiff, Oslo, Teotihuacan.”
“Istanbul isn’t one.”
“It is!” He stood and walked over to Jack, claiming the book. He scanned the page. “Fuck, you’re right, it’s not.”
“Invercargill. Guess you should hit some primitive books,“ Jack said, pointedly. He held his hand out for the tome and wiggled his fingers. “Give it up.”
“Why so tense?” John tucked the book under his arm and continued, “Come on, come out and party with me. Test is what, Monday? I’ll lend you my data files on rifts.”
Jack gave him a look and sighed, “Wow, what an offer. Istanbul? I don’t think I need your study guide. ”
John threw up his hands, letting the book drop to the bed where Jack took the opportunity to rescue it.
“I get it, beautiful. You’re still pissed off about Blondie. Go knock on her door then. You can have her. She’s irrational and bizarrely, jealous. Also, she has a bug up her arse resembling yours so you two should get on. ”
John went to the door and opened it a crack, peered out and then stepped into the hallway.
“See ya later, Jackie Joyless!” he said, and left with an entirely unnecessary door slam.
Jack rolled his eyes.
Jack leaned against the wall as the room spun. He’d never felt this sick, this weak. Ever. He could feel the edges of his vision start to go black.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Two strong hands caught him, held him up. John Hart.
“Agent recruits, clear out!” called the command sergeant.
“He needs…” John pleaded with the sergeant, “He needs help. A doctor.”
“He'll be fine. Clear OUT,” was the reply.
“Come on, with me,” John told Jack as he looped an arm around the taller man’s waist and led him outside.
“Wanna lie down,” Jack mumbled, faintly.
“Not here. My room’s closest.” John walked with Jack to the next building, practically holding him up. He led him to his room and dropped him onto the bed. Jack coughed weakly as he tried to sit up.
“Hold it, don’t yak on the rug,” John warned as he grabbed a wastebasket and set it next to the bed.
Jack leaned back onto the pillows and felt his feet being hoisted on to the bed and a tug on his boots.
The soft twist of John’s smile was the last thing he saw before he passed out.
Jack awoke to the sight of crossed spears. And a couple of what looked like Samurai swords, hanging on the wall. And to John Hart, wrapped around him like a blanket.
“John?”
“Yeah.”
“Your weapons… are primitive.”
“Retro.”
“Primitive.”
“Shut up.”
“What the hell happened to me in class?” Jack asked.
John leaned onto an elbow and faced him, then traced a finger in circles lightly over his chest. “Vortex sickness, didn’t anyone warn you? If you’re that bad in the simulator, imagine what it’ll be like when you’re on a wrist strap hop.”
“Thanks for the comforting thought.”
“S’alright, anytime,” John laughed.
“Why didn’t you get sick?”
“Because. I know tricks.”
“What tricks?”
“Well,” John said, softly, leaning into Jack’s shoulder, “When traveling through a vortex event, you need to keep your eyes open.”
“Uh huh.”
The hand playing lightly on Jack’s chest roamed lower.
“You need to breathe deeply. “
John inhaled and exhaled slowly to illustrate, his face moving closer to Jack’s as he continued. With one hand, he deftly unbuckled Jack's belt and worked buttons.
“…you need to focus… on a fixed… point.”
Jack complied and their eyes met.
“..and hold on to something …stationary.”
Jack gasped with pleasure.
John’s lips stopped just shy of his and parted with a whisper:
“You won’t find this trick in a book, beautiful”
Or that trick either, Jack realized, when he woke up afterward in handcuffs, John's tongue swirling hotly in just the right spot. Oh God.
The stories he’d heard about John Hart didn’t scratch the surface.
Legend.
Seven months later, Jack shut the door to his room behind him and leaned against it as he fumbled nervously with the envelope containing his first assignment. He opened it carefully and pulled out a sheet of paper.
Code name: Excalibur
Location: System 6224
Mission: Reconnaissance only
Restrictions: Alien interaction/timeline alteration forbidden
Partner: John Hart
He sighed. As much fun as John could be, and he was fun in so many ways, he also wore on Jack’s nerves, when he wasn't, well, shagging him boneless. He dropped the paper, startled, when he heard a gentle staccato rap and a low voice at the door behind him.
"Hey gorgeous. Big news. Open the fucking door."
Good thing it was just a two-week mission.
Fancy Time Agents? More here.
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Date: 2008-12-13 03:54 am (UTC)