neverwouldiever | Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and other Sounds

The Doctor put on his glasses, mainly so he'd have something to do while he felt like he had gotten caught in an argument that really had little to do with him.

"Eyecandy?" Was that a name or a nickname? One never knew with Welsh people. The Doctor decided that maybe it was better not to ask. Instead he was watching John, finding himself sympathetic to him without meaning to. Maybe it was because he thought he understood it. Maybe his reflex of cockiness was so very familiar, painfully so.

He turned to the console, pretending to set coordinates and mainly just focusing on getting them into orbit. "It will be a while, I need to get her all set. Wouldn't want to accidentally radiate another planet."

With a frown he pushed up his glasses and looked at Jack. "Can you take him to the infirmary? You know the way, right? The TARDIS can level out his radiation there, shouldn't take long. I just don't want him to play doctor." The Doctor winked at John. "Besides, it seemed like you had a lot of things to discuss when I picked you up." Discuss, snog, something like that.

"Ianto," Jack corrected, perhaps a little more stiff than he'd meant to. He hated that he couldn't go home right away and call Ianto and hear him tell him what a jerk John was.

"Oh, I think that conversation has well-passed by now, Doctor," he said with a decidedly bitter note. Jack pushed off from the rail and moved to start herding John in the direction of the med bay by way of shoves and little kicks to his injured leg. He couldn't understand how the Doctor wasn't upset by any of this, and actually seemed to be rather playful about it.

When they were out of earshot, Jack roughly grabbed John by the shoulder to make him listen. "Next time you want to play the sympathy card, try to make it credible. You know as well as I do that if I wanted you to suffer, I could make you suffer. You're lucky all you got away with was a punch. I should have knocked your teeth out for that stupid ploy."

"Fuck, ow! You kicked my leg, he kicked me leg!" John clarified very loudly for the sake of the Doctor because seriously, that was very rude and someone should punish Jack for doing it. With an annoyed sigh, he followed on with Jack... not that he had much choice, given that he was pretty much shoving him along the hallway and threatening his injured leg. Proper motivation always worked.

"He does like me, doesn't he? I can tell. Well, he does and he doesn't. I remind him of someone, he said so," John insisted with a smirk, seeming completely unbothered by the threats because hey, would Jack really hurt him around a man he adored and saluted who almost seemed on his side? Hopefully not. "I think it's an ex, personally. Does he have many tigger happy ex's? I bet that's what he's getting. Into the bad boys, is he? How cute."

Worth an ask. He could so use that to his advantage. "Look, if you were going to, you would have. But you didn't. If you want to then stop fucking around do it," John insisted, turning to Jack with a look that almost implored him to act. To do something. Because that would have made sense to him. But one moment Jack was worried, the next he was threatening, he understood violence more than these stupid emotions everyone had. "Go on, do it. Do something. I mean you wanted to before, didn't you? Got time now. Take all my teeth out and toss me in a jail if you hate me that much."

John did have a point. There was a point in time where he would have gladly taken out someone's teeth one by one, though generally for offences worse than that. Time had changed him, though it didn't remove the desire to do it altogether. The more and more John ran his mouth, the more he wanted to hit him again. But sadly, time was not exactly on their side. "Yeah, actually. The shit his ex did would make you seem like a basket of baby bunnies."

Jack stopped short when John unexpectedly turned to face him. He knew that look all too well. He'd fallen for it earlier that evening when they'd fought before, in fact. He'd always figured it as John's way of dodging or changing topics, and he hated that it worked so well. "I don't hate you. I'm pissed off at you, but I don't hate you. You're not worth wasting my energy on hate." He grabbed John by the shoulder and spun him back around, shoving him back down the hallway. "Move it."

"His ex sounds like fun. More fun than you two killjoys," John shot back, though he found it hard to believe that anyone could make him seem that sweet. And strangely enough, it near offended him. How someone be better at being worse.

"See, there you go, contradictions! I'm not worth your hate but I'm worth being stuck in your company cause I'm wounded. And hell, I'm worth a punch."

Okay not his best argument but never the less, John limped forward, knowing when it was easier to surrender. "I'd rather you hates me, Jack. Really."

"I wouldn't wish his ex on anyone. Not even you. If the Doctor says you remind him of his ex... I can see what he's saying. Not exactly a good thing, though. You are about as much of a dick as he is."

Jack frowned. He hated having to be mean, but John wasn't exactly making it easy for him to be nice, either. "It's not a contradiction if it's pity. And yes, John, I pity you, all right? I think you're sad and you're lonely, but you're too damn prideful to change anything, so you lash out and find unhealthy ways to cope, because it's easier that way. It's less wanting to be with you and more looking after you."

"The question is was he actually a dick or was he just fed up of dealing with you two. Cause if so, I totally get it," John insisted because seriously, this shit was getting hard to deal with. The Doctor was definitely softer about it but honestly, the morality bullshit was starting to give him a headache. As was Jack trying to talk sense to him. Did he look like the kind of guy who wanted this sort of talk? Cause he wasn't. He didn't want to hear about the guy he'd been hung up on pitying him.

"Don't pity me," John insisted coldly because sure, his life was flawed but he was happy. And if he ever wasn't happy, he knew plenty of illegal means to trick himself into thing he was happy. "And don't look after me either. Stick me in a prison as soon as we've checked just how nuked my body is because honestly, I couldn't give a shit any more. You can't just hold that constant threat over my head like that. Nah, fuck it, I'm done here."

He'd vastly rather be in prison than deal with this any longer. "Any jailer will be better to deal with than you."

Jack very, very much wanted to tell John just how nasty the Master had been, but decided it really wasn't worth the effort. He opened the doors to the med bay and ushered John in. It stung a little, what John said, but he wasn't about to let it get to him. Not that he'd show, anyway. Jack was always better at hiding those feelings than John was; much less likely to lash out in an emotional outburst, but then, John was very good at getting things done.

"You're right, a jailer would be better than me, because you know that you can't fuck with me because I know aaaalll of your little tricks, John. I don't put up with your shit, and you can't manipulate me like you can everyone else."

Jack flipped open his Vortex Manipulator to scan John. "How are you feeling? Are you feeling sick at all?" Just because he was mad at John didn't mean he didn't care.

"Oh well, I'll take a ninety nine percent success rate, better than nothing," John refused to get into this any deeper because he didn't want to. His pride was already wounded by the suggestion Jack pitied him all things and hell, his jaw was on fire after that punch earlier. And not in a sexy way either. From where he stood, he was just annoyed and he kind of wanted to smack Jack in the face with a nearby tray of tool.

But he didn't because hey, look at that, self control. He didn't used to have much of that before so this was quite the achievement.

"I feel like someone punched me in the face and irritated my gunshot by kicking it," John replied bluntly as he checked his own scanner. He still couldn't teleport but at least it did readings now. He didn't need Jack giving him a check up, he'd be fine. Hopefully. He did feel a little off but that was probably the sobriety. No drink all day, horrible feeling. "Why do you even care?"

"Yeah, well you're a twat, so you deserved it," Jack's voice was pitiless as he read his readings. "Take off your clothes and step into that chamber over there and I'll get the shower going." He shut his vortex manipulator and began shedding his own clothing as well, as they were no doubt heavily contaminated. He wanted to not care, truly, but that wasn't Jack. He sighed.

"I care because I'm an old, sentimental bastard, okay? And even though I'm mad at you, I still can't hate you for some reason. Probably because you're the only guy in the universe who can actually wear me out." He ran a hand through his hair, finding it hard to look at John all of a sudden. Maybe he did feel somewhat guilty about this. "Is that the answer you want? Is that what you were looking for?"

"Look at you, one moment it's name calling, the next you're asking me to strip," John dismissed but hey, he didn't hestitate, he already had his coat and shirt on the floor, shoes kicked off elsewhere. Like he was going to deny any chance to strip off. Once his trousers and boxers were happily left behind, he soon joined slid into the shower, looking more bored than playful because he always hated decontamination. It was such a tedious and wet process. And not in a good way.

"No, not really," John admitted because it wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to hear that Jack liked him solely because of nostalgia. Hell, he didn't even know what he felt about that. He liked wearing Jack out, it was a good trait to have but he always got the feeling Jack had outgrown him. And it was never fun to be in that position. "I think anything I'm looking for from you, I'm never going to get."

And that was the truth, John shrugged his shoulders because he didn't know what else to do. So he settled for falling back on humour, an awkward smile on his face. "For the record you are an old bastard. And I think you're getting grey hairs. Plus you've slower now, I'm worried when we next fuck, you're hip will fall out or something."

"I'm not trying to be cute, your clothes have been irradiated. If you're lucky, they'll have picked up more than your skin, which means they should probably be disposed of." Jack tried to sound as bored as John did. He didn't want to think of a time where he maybe, possibly could have carried a tiny little torch for him, and he certainly didn't want to think of why that was even a thought in the first place. He had Ianto back home, and for now, that was really all he needed.

John's answer, however, struck Jack in an odd way and brought a lot of questions to the forefront of his mind. He watched him with a scrupulous eye, trying to read him and come up with any answer to the new questions he had.

"You wish I were going grey. If I were, it would mean you finally had a leg up on me in something." Still, he tried to catch his reflection in a pane of glass to see if he noticed what John was talking about. Rubbish, as always. But back to those questions...

"So what do you want from me, then?" He asked, moving to fiddle with the controls for the chamber. "You want things to be the way they were before?"

"You wish you weren't going grey," John leaned against the inside of the shower, eyes on his coat with considerable concern because he'd rather be nuked than lose his coat. He had that one for years, it was a proud steal and not one he was willing to part ways with easily, he'd happily die to have a hold of it. Or maybe he could denuke it later? Either way, he'd be keeping it.

Looking at Jack, he raised an eyebrow, unsure what kind of answer Jack was looking for from him.

"I'm not stuck in the past," There was a level of annoyance in his tone because he was very aware that's what Jack believed of him. That he was some idiot stuck in his memories unable to move on. And that wasn't entirely the case. Yes, he was still kind of hung up on Jack but who wouldn't be? Jack was one of those kind of guys everyone wanted. And John knew he didn't have a chance at that so the past was a nicer thought really. But he knew it wasn't true. "You're not the bloke I knew. I mean we were mates because we were similar kind of guys and all but we're not now, are we? We got nothing in common. You changed."

And that was true because John knew for certain he hadn't changed. For better or for worse, he was consistent. "It's not my fault you changed."

"Time changes people, John, and I've had a lot of it." With much, much more of it to come, as well. He didn't want to think about all of the changes he was going to make in the future or what that future would bring. "We're different people, sure, but we've always been. You know we were only partnered up to begin with because we were so different, right?" He wondered briefly if John knew that at all. Surely he had to have guessed it at some point. "They thought you were unstable and stuck you with me, hoping you'd level out. And you did for a time. I noticed it, right up until we left and I stopped restricting you. Then I became more like you for a while." He looked sad. "Which is a shame. I kind of liked you better."

Once he'd figured out the controls, Jack turned on the decontamination spray and moved to collect John's clothes. Maybe he could save them after all. It'd be better for everyone if John wasn't walking around naked -- Jack especially. In fact, watching him shower wasn't exactly easy, either, as thoughts of past romps in showers flashed to the forefront of his mind. Easier to busy himself with clothes.

"I changed, but I don't think it's as much of changing into a different person... just closer to show I used to be before I let you poison me."

"I knew why they stuck someone like you with me. I just thought I could make you more fun, you were such a boring bastard at the start and then you lightened up. Hell, you joined in. Beats the holier than thou bullshit you do now," Oh the good old days when Jack would join in with him. It wasn't often but when it happened, it was glorious. Now it was very much an impossible thing to wish for. As the spray came down, John ruffled his own hair under the water and tilted his head back, enjoying the way it dropped down onto him. Showers were always a pleasant sensation.

It made it way easier to deal with whatever the hell Jack was saying. Honestly, he wished he could turn him off or lower the volume because he was fed up of hearing it. As much as he loved Jack, everything about him seemed to give John an unpleasant woozy feeling. And a painful sort of longing too.

"I didn't make you act like me, I didn't fucking poison you either. You wanted to do what you did because you could. And you can't tell me that wasn't really you," Dropping his head back down, he shook the water from his face and gave Jack a look of disbelief. Was he deluded enough to believe John had corrupted him? Bollocks. "I couldn't make you do a thing. I still can't. And trust me, I've seen you without me. You're still a heartless prick whether you want to be or not. That's just who you are, mate. It's got nothing to do with me."

"It gets things done." He didn't like doing it, but he'd had plenty of practise in the Time Agency in being cold and distancing himself from his emotions. He'd always had a harder time of it than others, but when it came down to it, he could still get things done. "Are you saying you want me to be heartless? Because I'm pretty sure that's how we got onto this topic in the first place." He narrowed his eyes at John for a moment and set to folding his clothes.

"You didn't make me, no. But you had influence. We'd spent years together, so why wouldn't you think you rubbed off on me a little?" He paused. "Personality-wise, I mean." He didn't want John to get any ideas, though he'd done plenty of that, too. "You looked like you were having fun, so I decided to try it. What do they call it? Peer pressure?" He snorted, not liking the way those words sounded to him. "Like it or not, you did have influence. I'd hoped I'd had a lasting one on you too, but... I guess not. Silly me."

"I'm not saying I want you to be a heartless prick, I'm just saying that you are a heartless prick half the time," John snapped because he didn't care to overthink these things, he just wanted to put them out there. He was sad and hurting, could anyone blame him for lashing out? The man he had a thing for seemed to think he was nothing but a bad influence. Not really a glowing compliment he was wanting, if he was honest. Things were so much easier before Jack got himself a team and friends, back when it was all fucking, fighting and working.

"Oh God, yeah, how could I not be influenced by your inconsistent and ever changing responses to me," John rolled his eyes, slumping back against the shower wall, defiant as ever at Jack's words. "You're right. I had fun and I still have fun. I was doing perfectly fine till you showed up and started fucking around in my life. You don't like how I live? Fine. That's you're problem, it's not mine. I was happy."

And truth be told, he wasn't very happy right now. Which was odd, really, he was often very happy when naked. What a killjoy Jack was.

Edited 2014-10-19 18:23 (UTC)

Jack shot a Look in at John with his comment on his responses. Could he not see that even now John was having an influence on him? He hated him being so nasty to him, and it even stung a little. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall, watching him under the spray.

"Right. Because nothing says 'I'm doing great' than hiding in a spaceship with a bullet through your leg like a wounded fox. Sounds like a great time to me." He snorted and huffed, looking away from him. Jack wasn't happy either, and since John's little stunt, he couldn't help but feel grumpy. John had set him off. He hated being this way and wondered what Gwen would say to soften him up. She always had a talent for that.

"Just.. finish scrubbing up, will you? I'm getting tired of waiting on you."

Being told what to do was a bad way to get John to do anything. With a stubborn and childish look, John crossed his arms and refused to scrub. Or hurry up. He didn't want to do either, he just wanted Jack to have to wait around, bored and annoyed, because that was exactly how John felt. That and it was fun to wind up Jack. Yes, he knew how childish it was. He really truly did. But that was just who he was and sometimes, he was pretty sure that Jack got at least the smallest shred of amusement. Or he hoped so anyway.

The thing with Jack was that he had changed and he was considerably less fun. But John could live with that. It was the day he couldn't so much as crack a smile that John would start considering cutting him forever.

"Nah, make me," John said bluntly from inside his very secure decontamination shower, a smirk on his face because being an awkward dick was always easier than doing a dealing with reality. "Or give me a little motivation. I mean I'm here, I'm naked and you have no suggestions?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" he asked, entirely unamused. "First you say you don't want me looking after you, and now you're acting like a child and basically asking for me to hold you down and wash you like one?" Well, if it got the job done... "You know what? Fine. If you insist on being a child, I'll go ahead and treat you like one."

Jack pushed off the wall and pushed his way into the decontamination chamber, grabbing John by the wrist and began scrubbing his arm. "I'm getting fed up with you. It's not cute, no matter what you might think. It's actually pissing me off."

John laughed because he had to laugh, he didn't quite know what to do. Maybe it's because he knew if he continued talking to Jack any longer, he was probably going to end up hearing something he didn't want to hear. Something more anyway. "It's actually pissing you off now, is it? You know any logical person would have fucked off, now actually come in. Which says one of two things. You're worried about me for some stupid reason. Or You just really can't resist getting your hands on me."

Then, there was an amused noise because he really couldn't help himself. If only that was the motive but he sensed it was some boring 'sense of duty'. "If you're so fed up of me then let me die. I mean if I had some bloke I didn't like being this much of an arsehole I'd kill them. Or maybe eject them from my ship."

Not that he wanted either of those but the prospect was there. Then, with an amused look, he tilted his head to the side. "I guess we do differ a lot now, huh? Funny really."

"That's you. Remember how different we are? You said it yourself." Jack rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to let you die, I'm not going to kill you, and I'm not going to eject you from the ship. That's stupid." Jack moved up to John's shoulder, scrubbing that and moving up into his hair to work the spray into his scalp. "I'm trying to look after you, because heaven forbid you do it yourself. You've got amazing self-preservation skills when someone's shooting at you, but when it comes to doing anything about your actual health, you're pretty stupid."

He sighed, doing his best to work on that emotional distancing that was getting so hard for him to do. "I don't hate you. I told you that. I don't like the things you do or the person you are, but I can't hate you. Take that as you will." And that was going to be the last he said about it, because honestly, he was tired of talking in circles.

"If someone is shooting at me, I'm going to try and avoid it because it's instant death. But all this stuff? I'm not really scared of cancers much. If anything is going to kill me, it's the drugs or the booze. Maybe the strippers. I have to say, last time I was in the Vegas Station of Delta Twelve, one of them pulled a knife on me," He had swiftly disarmed her and they'd had some amazing hate sex but the point stood. He was likely to die as a hedonist. And he was pretty happy about that. Death was something he didn't want, not really, but he'd be proud to go out doing what he loved.

"I'm not taking it with much love," John admitted, the smallest shrug as he looked over at Jack, raising his own had to start decontaminating the lower parts. Well, he doubted Jack was in the mood to do them and do them well. "But it's not too bad. Knowing you're not hated is probably the best you can get from old friends. That and the occasional fuck for old times sake."

So it seemed as though Jack had at least some kind of influence over him. Enough to make him do things, anyway, which honestly actually made Jack feel a little proud of himself. "There, see? Not so hard, is it?" He remarked as John began to scrub himself. He moved around back of him, releasing John's wrist and scrubbing at his back, particularly in the harder-to-reach areas that might have otherwise gone neglected.

"I'm mad at you, there's not supposed to be much love at all." Jack's voice was flat and his movements clinical and methodical. "You pull a gun on a friend of mine and start making demands after I'd trusted that you were going to behave for me, of course I'm going to be upset. Doesn't matter if the gun was loaded or not working, accidents still happen." He leaned in to look at John's face and address him more directly. "You're unpredictable and hard to trust." If John were to look at Jack, he'd see that he actually looked a little hurt. "I hate that I can't trust you. I used to put my life into your hands, and now I can't trust you with anything. Maybe I'm not the one who changed."

"You know, you always talk to me like a child when I do something right. Not a good motivator. Do you do that with your team?" John asked because yes, he knew he reacted in an immature manner but was there really much reason to join in and talk down to him? -- Well, probably. Admittedly a lot of John's problems were caused by John just being John. Something he didn't quite grasp himself, if he was perfectly honest.

"It didn't have bullets and I knew he was going to jam it. He wasn't under any threat. I wouldn't of killed him even if I had bullets, he's the pilot of this thing and the only one who can fix my wrist strap," John admitted because he wasn't stupid and he wasn't going to start pretending he did it for noble reasons. The fact of the matter was he benefited from the Doctor being alive. With a sigh, John reached out and ran his fingers tentatively through Jack's hair, unsure if it was going to get his fingers broken or not. "Look, I'm sorry. Okay? Sorry. I fucked up. But I'm always going to do that. That's why you were there to try and stop that. And maybe you can't. Maybe I am a universal and unending fuck up."

And John didn't actually mind that reality too much, if he was honest. "Doesn't mean I don't try. Well, for you. You're the only person I put any effort in for any more, most people just expect carnage from me."

Edited 2014-10-20 11:09 (UTC)

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