InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I promise."

Remy LeBeau (ace_of_clubs) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-10 23:43:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 10, jack harkness, location: post office, remy lebeau

Who: Jack Harkness and Remy LeBeau
What: The Cajun comes back to the Post Office and Jack finds him.
Where: The Post Office
When: 2104 - Day 10
Rating: Er, it's R now.
Status: Complete!

The Cajun had spent his entire day in a way he certainly wasn't interested in spending it. He'd wandered around the outside of the town with the Doctor all morning, which had been great, as they were trying to figure out a way out of here.. but then it'd gone sour when the earthquake had happened. The red-head had very quickly become an unwilling hero and had gone around saving people with the Doctor. At first. He'd tried to escape, and after dropping the people off at the gym he'd gone back out to try and get some time away from any further heroics.. but he'd been hauled in again. Then again. And again. He'd been trying to get into the museum all day, and he'd finally managed it just a while ago. And now here he was, having returned to the Post Office to stare at the closed door. He'd jimmied it shut with a stick earlier in the day so it wouldn't be open for all to see in. He didn't want anyone mucking up his escape, if that tunnel really lead to one.

However, he couldn't bring himself to go inside the building, couldn't bring himself to abandon the people here. Or maybe he couldn't bring himself to abandon the Doctor. He let out a slow breath and pushed his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He felt like an idiot for not being able to leave this people in his dust and hightail it out of here. Just earlier today, he'd been willing to sell them out. But then.. well.. things had happened. Red eyes lowered to the ground, then back up again at the Post Office. He was only standing about five feet from the door, nearly invisible in the dark, in that coat.. except for his hair. That red hair stood out in even the smallest bit of moonlight.

(Read comments) - (Post a new comment)

capt_harkness
2009-06-20 09:45 pm UTC (link)

Doing everything in his power and doing a very good job of it as well -- though it was hard to not be successful when Jack was just as into it. Right now, Jack was okay with it being just the two of them, and he had no intention of turning the Coat over. Right now, sex would have to be the best exchange between the two of them. Jack let the greatcoat fall back enough so that Gambit could get to his shirt, though he didn't let it slide off. Partially-clothed sex had always been one of his most favourite activities.

Then, suddenly, Gambit was pulling away from him and disentangling his own hand from within Gambit's trousers. That was most decidedly not part of Jack's gameplan; or if there was pulling back it was to further undress, not to stop. No, this was not happening. If Gamit was going to start something, he sure as hell better know how to finish it and finish it properly.

"And here I thought you were the sort of man who didn't back down," Jack said, stepping forward once more. His hand cupped the back of Gambit's neck, pulling him forward once more. One of Jack's favourite activities was a good snog and he threw himself into this one, nipping at Gambit's lips while his tongue sought entrance. "We'll figure out 'payment' later," Jack murmured against Gambit's lips. Or, more likely, lack thereof. The day Jack had to exchange anything for sex was the day he curled up and died.

Which, well... good luck with that.

Jack's free hand managed to find Gambit's, moving it back towards his own goin. No, they were at least going to play for a little bit.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

ace_of_clubs
2009-06-20 10:00 pm UTC (link)

"I ain' backin' down, I'm--" It was a breathless excuse, except that Jack was stepping in again and hauling him back into that amazing kiss. Remy let out a little whining moan, somewhere between a whimper and a groan deep in his throat. He really wanted to go through with this. And so, once again, he was stepping in to force Jack back against the poor, tiny Post Office, pushing his hand down those tight pants when it was pressed there, and he was forcing them open a bit more -- that sound of tearing? That was just the rest of the zipper. Sorry, Jack. But the Cajun was taking firm hold in a gloved hand (bet that felt interesting) and gave a demanding squeeze. Looked like someone enjoyed a bit of pain with his pleasure. Not too much though, just enough to remember that he was alive. It was sort of pathetic, when you had to remind yourself of that every time you had sex.

And with Jack pushed up against the Cabin like that, Gambit was able to find his neck with his mouth again, biting, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin, before finally finding his collar bone and placing another bite there. That would leave a mark, at least for a little while. He used his hand as he used that mouth, working to get Jack good and ready, as he himself was already. Once that was accomplished, the Cajun was pulling back and before Jack could protest, he was grabbing onto the back of his neck, spinning him around, pushing him face-first into the building, then kicking his legs open using a knee, between his thighs. A booted foot forced those Torchwood issue boots further apart, and Remy took the liberty of jerking Jack's pants down further, as he kept one hand on the back of the older man's neck, to keep him pinned to the Post Office. It was only once he had the dark pants down below the curve of the other American's rear that he spoke heatedly into his ear.

"Beg." It wasn't a request. It was a demand.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

capt_harkness
2009-06-20 10:24 pm UTC (link)

All Jack did was give Gambit a look that said 'bullshit'; he was trying to find a way out of it and Jack was having none of it. One didn't start something like this and expect to walk away scott free. No way in hellfire -- at least, not where Jack was concerned. The glove was a different feeling, though not wholly unwelcome either, just different. Gambit was different than Ianto and it was always strange being with someone who didn't know just how to touch -- not that Gambit was doing a bad job, mind, but Ianto knew how to touch just right.

And he really needed to stop comparing the two men and just enjoy the moment.

Being jostled against the flimsy door did quite the job of jarring Jack from his thoughts. This was -- different, usually he was the one who did the pushing and took the dominant role. There were very few men he'd let take control like this and neither of them were here at the present. Still, Jack managed to rock back against Gambit, seeking some bit of comfort. He reached behind him, managing to find Gambit's hand and drawing it around himself and guiding Gambit. He turned his head enough, teeth latching onto Gambit's lower lip and tugging gently, fire in his eyes. At last he released the lip, licking his own.

"Begging? Not my style. Never has been." And Jack wasn't about to start either. Jack pushed his hips backwards, knowing right where to move to so that he was rubbing against Gambit. Two could play the role of dominant party and Jack knew they'd be scrapping for that top position. And, really, if Jack had to top from the bottom -- so be it. It was still, in essence, topping.

And no, that was not rumbling he felt under his feet either.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

ace_of_clubs
2009-06-20 10:35 pm UTC (link)

Gambit moved with Jack when he pressed back into him, a fine dance that his body knew well. No, he wasn't Ianto. He was an entirely different beast. No sweet smell of tea here, it was all spices and fire. And even when Jack brought his hand around, Gambit didn't mind all that much, his gloved hand wrapping around Jack and giving a firm squeeze, before he started moving it, dropping his other hand away from the back of his neck and down to his own pants. "You got anyt'in' to use, or we goin' au natural?" Poor Jack wouldn't even have time to respond, because the ground did move under their feet and the last of the aftershocks was rolling through, teetering the Post Office, causing the bricks of the Clock Tower to vibrate and fall from their pile.

And it helped rumble some sense into the Cajun, who watched wide-eyed as the small building creaked and swayed.. but then all was still, and he was cursing in French, then something that sounded thicker, more foreign. That hand was gone in an instant and once more, the red-head was backing off and fixing his pants again, cursing himself under his breath. And if Jack took a step away from that barn and towards him, he'd lift up a partially gloved hand, fingers spread, as if to say 'stop'. "Non. I nail you to 'de wall la'er, Capt'in. M' busy." That last part was somewhat mumbled and he was fixing himself in his pants, trying to think about dead bunnies once again. He liked bunnies. Dead bunnies. Kittens with spikes on them. There we go.

"Non." More firmly repeated, once again. "Zip up an' go. Je ne vais pas le faire en ce moment." He backed off another step, shaking his head, and was pointing away from the Post Office, and away from him, a firm way to tell Jack to go. Because he wasn't sure he could turn him down a third time. He felt like his balls were going to explode, but that'd pass in time. It always had before. Merde. What a night!

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

capt_harkness
2009-06-20 11:05 pm UTC (link)

It was a dance (one Jack enjoyed quite a lot), and Jack had always been very flexible when it came to dancing. It didn't matter that the hands felt different, or that the gloved hands provided a very different sort of friction, it was a dance and Jack was going to take every bit he could get. "What I had is currently --" It was all he could get out before the aftershock began enforce.

Jack cursed, suddenly feeling cooler air against him. The aftershock too knocked some sense into Jack -- one of the rare times when he found that he should stop. God, what was happening to him here. Jack quickly did up his own trousers and pulled his coat back on, shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it.

Frankly, Jack wouldn't be turned down a third time, but he let it pass for now. Jack knew they would be meeting like this once again, in private, and most likely it would be ending quite differently. Jack could wait -- like a tiger with its prey -- he could wait. To be contrary, Jack walked in the opposite direction the Cajun had pointed. Further proof that Jack didn't always did what he was asked to do. Not by a long-shot.

(Reply to this) (Parent)

(Read comments) -