Luckily for Jack, the Doctor was feeling quite passionate on the whole. His kiss tasted faintly of alcohol and banana and mostly of time, space and the stars, and he moved inside him as if he knew what he was doing, fast and deep and without pause. His eyes were open, because he was watching Jack's expression, even with the blindfold. He knew that he wasn't giving Jack all he wanted, not letting him see, not letting him touch, but that somehow made it easier. He wasn't the best at giving himself, after all.

"So what does it take for you to bed?"