Gunpowder. Beautiful in its simplicity- carbon, sulphur, potassium nitrate. Unstable. Explosive. Dangerous. Fantastic. Heat and light and flame- burning, consuming that with which they come into contact. Put a flame to sulphur and carbon alone and the burn is unimpressive, but potassium nitrate increases the oxygen in the reaction exponentially- oxygen is the key.
Jack’s lips are soft. Even in the throes of a rough, lust-fueled kiss his lips are soft. His hands are strong and firm, but his touch is gentle. Everything about Jack is a strange new sensation; a contradiction of feelings. He has me on my knees, threatening to shoot me. He has me pressed against the filing cabinet, hands working at the buttons on my shirt. He kills my lover. He becomes my lover. Every kiss, every encounter is intense in a way that I’ve never experienced before.
A kiss from Jack Harkness. I’m merely the latest in a long string of lovers- men, women, others. That doesn’t matter right now. Right now, with his back against the wall, and his hands holding me firmly against him, one around my waist, the other on the back of my neck. Through his thin white undershirt I can feel the intense heat radiating off his flesh. I can smell his aftershave mingling with sweat, the ever-present scent of coffee, and the lingering odor of leftover takeaway still sitting on the desktop. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest cavity, and hear my pulse pounding in my head. It’s amazing and terrifying, being out of control. Every last sense is stolen from me- the world is nothing but blinding light.
I pull back sharply, gasping, taking in deep, desperate breaths. Oxygen is the key.
“These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume…”
Friar Laurence, Romeo & Juliet
Act II, Scene VI