That thought the Doctor had asked him to call on honestly shouldn't have been too much of a stretch. He did, after all only just get pretty well-fucked by him. Jack's hands clenched and unclenched, needing something to touch but coming up with nothing, and his moans came through gritted teeth. He didn't have to think for very long, and given how pent-up he was just tonight, it wasn't any surprise either. He called upon fantasies he'd used time and again, trying to picture how the Doctor must have looked when he finished inside him, and that was all he needed.

When he came, Jack's voice called out for his Doctor hard and shameless and his back arched away from the bed. He was sure that he was making an ungodly mess of the Doctor's hand as he shivered and came into his grip. As he finished, Jack sank back into the mattress, feeling like his bones had been replaced with cooked pasta, but that a lovely warmth was spreading through him just under his skin. Totally worth the wait.