The Doctor sighed, having a pretty good idea of what was to follow. "Fine. What do you want to see?"
Jack caught Rose's excitement. "Frontier Angels. Best movie about the Mars colony revolution ever."
"I'd expect that from you." Rose glared at Jack. "What about a nice romance?"
Excusing himself from the impending fire-fight, the Doctor went to give the toaster a good tinkering with.
The toaster had always performed flawlessly and had never so much as singed a piece of toast, mostly because it lived in fear of the sonic screwdriver. The microwave had never been quite the same since the Doctor improved it.
As he upended the appliance and peered inside, the Doctor tried to block out the argument over chick flicks versus action movies. He shook his head. It was silly really. Neither Jack nor Rose had any reference for the films they were fighting over. He could have explained to Jack that Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels was not a period costume drama, but it would have meant getting involved in a truly pointless discussion.
Setting the toaster back on the counter, he turned back to his bickering companions and interrupted. "The TARDIS can choose. Be in the media room in fifteen minutes and if there's any more fighting, I'm hosing the pair of you off."
Rose pouted slightly but soon veered off on a different tangent. "Right then. Pyjama party. That means lose the jacket and you —" She eyed Jack firmly. "— try and make an effort to wear pants."
When Rose backed through the media room door with her arms full, she found that she was the last to arrive. With a smile, she noticed that Jack had gotten into the spirit of things and was wearing pair of long, loose-fitting cotton pants and a t-shirt. The Doctor had forgone his jacket, but kept the jumper and jeans, which was more than Rose expected.
"Oi, we nearly started without you." The Doctor blinked at her shortie pyjamas, they were covered in small, scary monkeys. The outfit was completed with a ridiculous pair of fluffy bunny slippers.
Jack waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "We would have asked you to join in, of course."
Rose threw a soft toy at Jack's head. Well, he mistook it for a soft toy, but when he turned it over in his hands, he was still none the wiser. The Doctor took it off him, stuck his hand inside it and held it up. "It's a novelty slipper. Although I can't imagine what the manufacturer was thinking, wearing an elder god on your feet seems a little sacrilegious."
Jack still looked blank, but was quite taken with the tentacles and fondled them in delight. "It's Cthulhu." Rose tossed him the other slipper as she caught the Doctor's look of surprise. "What? I know who Lovecraft is."
The Doctor doubted that her knowledge was gained from actually reading any of Lovecraft's books.
Rose handed the Doctor his slippers. "These are yours."
"Oh no. Movie night, I'll go along with. Silly themed parties are not my kind of thing."
"Jack?" Rose tilted her head.
Jack grinned and pinned the Doctor to the couch, while Rose wrestled off his boots. He managed to escape, with much kicking and swearing, but it was too late, Rose had done the deed. Jack leapt clear and the Doctor lunged for him, stopping when he heard a growl. He stomped again and there was another growl. Looking down, he saw that he wearing furry, green dinosaur feet, with great yellow claws. The slippers growled when he walked.
"Awesome. I'll trade you." Jack made to tackle the Doctor, but stopped at the Doctor's serious look. He might even have got away with pulling rank, if he didn't sound like a cheesy Godzilla sound effect as he returned to his seat, receiving matching smirks for his trouble.
"Let's just watch the movie." The Doctor flopped down in the middle of the couch, waited for Rose and Jack to settle on either side of him and clicked his fingers. The lights had dimmed, and the TARDIS rolled the film.
Rose groaned as she saw the film. "Couldn't we have gotten something a little newer."
Nudging her in the ribs, the Doctor leaned closer. "You wanted a movie, you got a movie and this one has some really great archery. Bloke called Howard Hill did the Robin Hood with the arrow in one take with no trick photography. Now stop complaining and enjoy it."
As the opening credits rolled, Jack started making incoherent gurgling sounds.
Leaning over the Doctor, Rose poked Jack in the arm. "Did you just make the same sound Homer Simpson makes when he sees doughnuts?" Jack pointed at the screen and Rose followed his finger. "Who's Errol Flynn? Ooo... The pretty man in the tights. Nice."
"Are you two going to watch the movie or yabber through it?" He kept it as light as he could, but he was privately contemplating his sanity in agreeing to an evening in a darkened room with two hormonal humans who had Pavlovian reactions to Errol Flynn.
Sharing a grin with Jack, Rose sat back, leaning up against the Doctor.
Jack's initial gurgling may have ceased, but it was replaced by little moans every time Errol Flynn was on screen. They hadn't even made it through what would have been the first reel of the movie when Rose started adding her own accompaniment to Jack's appreciative noises. The Doctor found their noises were having quite an effect on him, but that could have been down having both Jack and Rose snuggled into him.
Closing his eyes, the Doctor realised that he could hear their increased heart rates and smell their arousal. Concentrating on their reactions, he didn't realise that they'd both moved slightly until arms wrapped across his stomach. He froze, loathe to lose the contact, but torn over what it would mean to let it continue.
As he returned to the movie, the Doctor found Rose watching him with a look of pure lust on her face. She cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. He barely had time to catch his breath before Jack took her place.
The film hadn't even gotten to the archery scene that he'd mentioned when there was a hand up his jumper, clever fingers circling a sensitive nipple. Another hand had ventured south, stroking him through too tight jeans. With Rose and Jack determined to keep his mouth busy, the Doctor wasn't sure who belonged to which hands and, with the movie soon forgotten, he found he didn't care.
His last coherent thought, as they mounted a co-ordinated effort to kiss their way down his body, was to silently thank the TARDIS for not choosing Captain Blood instead. He may not have survived the experience.
extended version of Flicker
15minuteficlets — word #118: pinnacle