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51stcenturyfoxTitle: Hypnos
Author: 51st Century Fox
Pairing: Jack/John
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 325
Warnings: Bondage reference
Summary: The ways they fall asleep, and wake up.
Notes: Time loop era. For the purposes of this series, Jack’s real name is Jack, and John Hart’s real name is…John Hart.
Crossposted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
torchwood_decaf
Whatever they had done that day - work, weep, fight or fuck - John Hart would talk Jack to sleep. He talked about anything and nothing. He speculated, raved, told stories, planned missions, related conquests, cracked wise.
Jack discovered that he wasn't expected to answer or make sympathetic noises - or even politely try to stay awake and pretend to listen.
As John wound down, his voice would go lower, softer, hypnotic. Sometimes Jack decided that sleep wasn't what he needed.
Then, beneath or behind him, John would murmur into his ear. He instinctively knew what to say and when - how it felt, what he planned to do to next - the sound a sweet, suggestive hum.
John only shut up when he finally fell asleep.
When Jack gasped awake in terror (Gray - it was always about losing Gray) or otherwise stirred to consciousness in the middle of the night, he found himself wrapped in John's tight hold, immobile.
Jack's nightmares never woke his partner, but John's solid body covered him like hothouse ivy, comforted him, dragged him into the present.
Jack was so still in sleep, like a marble statue or a corpse, but beautiful. Always on his back, arms splayed out or up, so... trusting.
He didn't wake easily in the morning, and after John watched him sleep for as long as he could stand it (not usually patient, he could stand to watch Jack sleep for a very long time) he did things. Jack never just woke up. He was roused with wanton fingers or a questing tongue or the suction of soft lips, somewhere.
One morning Jack felt a steady pressure at his shoulder blades and opened his eyes to find himself wrapped in an intricate lattice of smooth rope.
"You were a... Scout?" he gasped and threw his head back when a soft tug dragged a knot across the inside of his thigh.
"Shibari. Japanese bondage," John Hart hissed into his ear. "The Scouts threw me out."
Author: 51st Century Fox
Pairing: Jack/John
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 325
Warnings: Bondage reference
Summary: The ways they fall asleep, and wake up.
Notes: Time loop era. For the purposes of this series, Jack’s real name is Jack, and John Hart’s real name is…John Hart.
Crossposted to
torchwood_decaf Whatever they had done that day - work, weep, fight or fuck - John Hart would talk Jack to sleep. He talked about anything and nothing. He speculated, raved, told stories, planned missions, related conquests, cracked wise.
Jack discovered that he wasn't expected to answer or make sympathetic noises - or even politely try to stay awake and pretend to listen.
As John wound down, his voice would go lower, softer, hypnotic. Sometimes Jack decided that sleep wasn't what he needed.
Then, beneath or behind him, John would murmur into his ear. He instinctively knew what to say and when - how it felt, what he planned to do to next - the sound a sweet, suggestive hum.
John only shut up when he finally fell asleep.
When Jack gasped awake in terror (Gray - it was always about losing Gray) or otherwise stirred to consciousness in the middle of the night, he found himself wrapped in John's tight hold, immobile.
Jack's nightmares never woke his partner, but John's solid body covered him like hothouse ivy, comforted him, dragged him into the present.
Jack was so still in sleep, like a marble statue or a corpse, but beautiful. Always on his back, arms splayed out or up, so... trusting.
He didn't wake easily in the morning, and after John watched him sleep for as long as he could stand it (not usually patient, he could stand to watch Jack sleep for a very long time) he did things. Jack never just woke up. He was roused with wanton fingers or a questing tongue or the suction of soft lips, somewhere.
One morning Jack felt a steady pressure at his shoulder blades and opened his eyes to find himself wrapped in an intricate lattice of smooth rope.
"You were a... Scout?" he gasped and threw his head back when a soft tug dragged a knot across the inside of his thigh.
"Shibari. Japanese bondage," John Hart hissed into his ear. "The Scouts threw me out."
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-25 05:41 am (UTC)Verrrry good thing I'd just swallowed that mouthful of water, yeah... ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-25 01:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-25 06:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-25 01:46 pm (UTC)I blame the bittersweet partially on being roped into watching Bad Santa last night. (Well, not literally roped, though that would have been interesting.)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-26 12:12 pm (UTC)Loved this, thye are magic.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-26 01:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-02 02:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-13 02:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-13 06:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-13 01:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-13 02:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-05 08:38 pm (UTC)And how very John to answer Jack's nighttime terrors with a spot of shibari. He probably perfected his technique on the Scoutmaster.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-16 09:28 pm (UTC)This started out so cute, and then you put in the humour, and it was perfect!