This was requested by Kisha, and the exact prompt was 'Breakfast-of-Champions!Jack'. No really, it was. This was also written while listening to Ludo, so it is somewhat crack-ish

“Jack?”

No response.

“Jack.”

A muffled grumble, then silence.

“JACK!”

A pair of blue eyes shoot open, glaring blearily. They blink a few times, then settle for a half-lidded look.

“You have a room.” The tone is matter-of-fact, and somewhat annoyed.

“….yeah”

“And in that room you have a bed.” There is now the slightest smugness added to the tone, for a reason he can’t really fathom at the moment.

“Which I rarely use, but yeah.” The words are distorted by sleep and drunkenness, but still understandable.

Jack really hopes there’s a point to this. Because if there isn’t, then the Doctor just woke him from alcohol-induced sleep for no apparent reason, and then he’ll have to be annoyed at him. Nothing good ever happens from being annoyed at the Doctor.

Last time it happened, he got hit by a tennis ball. Five times.

In a row.

But he’s still looking at him, so Jack decides that he might as well get up. With another groan, he sits up from whatever flat surface he happened to pass out on last night. It was high up, which ruled out the floor.

A glance around revealed that he was in the kitchen, and judging by the slight draft he felt Jack figured he was also naked.

He gave a mental shrug jumping down and making his way to the fridge.

“….Jack?”

“Yeah?” There was some sort of milk-substance in the fridge, but he didn’t want to find out just what enzymes had decided to temporarily shut down in his body thanks to last night’s activity.

Water was nice, cool and safe; you don’t need enzyme to digest water.

“You woke up naked. On the kitchen table.” His tone now implied that this was supposed to mean something.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So……?

Taking a sip from one of the water bottles he’d scoured out of the fridge, Jack grinned at the Doctor.

It was the sort of grin that usually got him laid in bars; the bed hair apparently added to the appeal, if the morning’s after were anything to go by.

It might have also had something to with the nakedness of the moments. But really, who could resist the bed hair?

The Doctor somewhat dreaded the look; it meant that he was about to regret whatever had lead to it, because it was usually followed by a lewd comment that really wouldn’t be helped by the fact Jack currently lacked clothes.

“I am a very filling breakfast, in more ways than one.”

The blushes would never seize to amuse Jack. The Doctor would never admit that they were partly due to the fact he was always tempted to take Jack up on his offers.