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Jack heaved a sigh of relief as the door to his quarters closed behind them. If they'd made it this far, no one had checked the space station's version of CCTV yet, but that wouldn't last. "I can't believe you parked the TARDIS on the opposite side of the station," he said, crossing the tiny confines of the rented room to its miniature wardrobe.
"Well how was I to know you were living here?" The floppy-haired youngster might look very different to the Doctor's previous regeneration, but the tone of voice was exactly what Jack would have expected.
The wardrobe yielded up plain, dark pants, an Oxford shirt clearly out of its proper place and time, and Jack's spare set of braces. He wondered if he'd get them back--they weren't exactly easy to find this far along the galactic arm. "Here, put these on," he said as he turned around.
The Doctor crossed his arms over the thin red fabric covering his chest. "You're taller than I am." He sounded like a petulant schoolboy.
Jack made a frustrated sound and pushed the clothes into the Doctor's hands. "So turn up the cuffs. Just get dressed, already."
The Doctor gave the pile of clothes in his arms a distasteful look.
"You can't go out on the main promenade like that. We'll get arrested before we get anywhere near the TARDIS." Wait, what was he saying? It wasn't like the Doctor would care what he ought to do. Jack stopped, took a deep breath, and smirked. "Not that I'm complaining about the view." Not with the way the temple attendant's long red shift gaped open from the Doctor's thigh to his ankle. Jack approved of the new legs.
The Doctor sighed, setting the clothing on the edge of Jack's bed. "You'd best pack your things," he said as he removed the ceremonial brooch from his left shoulder. The fabric parted, revealing half his chest at one go.
Jack didn't even comment on the assumption that he was going along, too busy staring at the small, dark nipple, puckered in the cool air of the space station. Not that it was a particularly extraordinary nipple, but this was the Doctor. "Do you want me to look away or something?"
The Doctor gave him a blank look. "I want you to be ready to run as soon as I'm dressed. If you still don't want to travel with me, I can give you a lift anywhere . . . except back here. I don't imagine that would be wise." He unfastened the traditional rope belt at his waist, and his shift slid to the floor.
Not bad. Not bad at all. Maybe it wasn't the raw magnetism of the Doctor's previous regeneration, but Jack appreciated the lithe, strong limbs and the-- "If I own it, either I'm standing in it, or you're about to be. You know, you look entirely comfortable like that. And to think, you used to complain every time I started to undress."
"New me." The Doctor grabbed the shirt off the top of the pile and put his arms into the sleeves. He began fastening the buttons neatly, without a particular sense of urgency.
Jack gave him a speculative look. "How does the new you feel about putting my legs over your shoulders?"
"Not now, Jack." The face might be different, but the exasperation in the Doctor's voice was familiar enough to warm Jack's heart. "We do have to get out of here before the Emperor's Own catch on and come looking for us."
Well, it had been worth a shot. Jack shrugged, unrepentant, silently telling his now-interested cock to take a cold shower. Maybe someday.
A subdued smile spread across this Doctor's lips as he reached for Jack's spare trousers. "Besides, I'm sure you can wait until we get back to the TARDIS, and the bed's bigger there."