Revelations Part 5.5
Title: Revelations
Part: 5.5 of 10-ish...
Chapter Title: In Which Ianto Has a Rather Confrontational Chat with Jack and an Exorbitant Amount of Make-Up Sex is Had.
Pairing: Janto, mention of Gwen/Rhys, mention of Martha/Tom, Ianto/Martha fag-hag fabulousness
Rating: NC-17...very much so. Graphically. ^_^;
Warnings: Post Season 2 Spoilers, General Angst, Tortured!Ianto
Excerpt:
"I take it the others have left," Jack begins, trying to instill his voice with confidence, getting himself ready for the conversation they're undoubtedly about to have. He shuffles the pages on his desk around like he's looking for some specific piece of information.
"Yes, sir," Ianto says. He places the cup of coffee at Jack's elbow and gives out an inaudible sigh when Jack only raises his eyes to the level of Ianto's chest. "If you don't need anything else, I thought perhaps you might want to discuss why you seem to find my tie so interesting."
After leaving the conference room, Jack goes to his office. He's staring blankly at a few reports strewn across his desk, pencil in hand, unmoving. With a sigh, he leans back in his chair, sticking his pencil behind his ear, lacing his fingers together and resting them against his stomach.
Jack hasn't even thanked Ianto for coming to the rescue. He hasn't asked Martha how serious the young man had been wounded, checked to make sure his injuries were taken care of. He's been unable to bring himself to look Ianto in the eye. All of these things are common courtesies Jack would unthinkingly give to a complete stranger, and suddenly he finds himself unable to accord them to his... lover.
He's acting like an emotionally-constipated teenager.
I'm too old for this, Jack thinks.
All it had taken was one little word to knock Jack completely on his ass. He's let things go too far. Without even realizing it, he's allowed Ianto to become an almost permanent fixture in his life. Jack's come to depend on him. It probably shouldn't be as terrifying a thought as it is.
He looks up when Ianto walks in, coffee in hand. Jack's jaw clenches, eyes skittering back to the reports on his desk, heart thumping rapidly in his ears.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
"I take it the others have left," Jack begins, trying to instill his voice with confidence, getting himself ready for the conversation they're undoubtedly about to have. He shuffles the pages on his desk around like he's looking for some specific piece of information.
"Yes, sir," Ianto says. He places the cup of coffee at Jack's elbow and gives out an inaudible sigh when Jack only raises his eyes to the level of Ianto's chest. "If you don't need anything else, I thought perhaps you might want to discuss why you seem to find my tie so interesting."
Despite himself, Jack's lips twist into a self-deprecating smirk.
"Well, you know how I feel about red silk," he jokes, finally looking at the younger man. Ianto smiles slightly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He remains silent, and Jack looks away again.
"Jack," Ianto says. "What is it?" Jack sighs.
"I never thanked you," he begins, the speech he'd been working on for the past fifteen minutes spilling from his mouth, "for coming to the rescue like that. You eliminated the threat, kept your wits about you, and pulled off the operation with style. I'm impressed."
"Just doing my job, sir," Ianto shrugs. "But I doubt that that's what's bothering you."
Jack frowns. A few months ago, he'd have said it would be unlike Ianto to be so direct. What surprises him, ironically, is that he's not really surprised by this new facet of the young man. It seems like a natural extension of Ianto now, a quiet strength Jack had noticed before manifesting itself out in the open.
"No," Jack takes a deep breath. Here comes the tricky part. "I'm afraid I haven't been completely clear to you, Ianto. The nature of our relationship... it's not... I mean, we-- you don't have a right to...to claim me like that." Jack's disgusted with his lack of ability to articulate what he means. He sees Ianto's eyes flash briefly, and then they narrow slightly as the younger man approaches him.
"Don't I?" Ianto asks quietly when he's directly across from Jack, setting his hands on the desk and leaning down so that they're almost at the same eye level. His gaze is burning, and Jack searches for some semblance of his former bravado.
"Listen," he starts. "I don't do this. I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not whoever it is you want me to be. I don't do relationships like that." Ianto lets out a frigid laugh.
"You don't do relationships," he repeats, "but you do take me out on dates, you do fuck me on a regular basis, and you do spend two or three nights a week sleeping in my arms. You do me, Jack." He pauses. Their eyes lock. Jack finds himself slightly stunned, unable to speak.
"So what's wrong with calling it what it is?" Ianto continues after a moment. "Gwen, Mickey, and Martha already know we're sleeping together. Within five minutes of meeting us, most people at least suspect something is going on. Why not acknowledge it? What is there to be afraid of?"
Jack stands abruptly, heading to the cabinet in the corner of the room and grabbing the decanter of brandy. He pours a drink and quickly knocks it back before pouring another. Jack's completely thrown. This is the new Ianto, the changed Ianto, the Ianto he thought he understood. He's being shown more everyday that he doesn't. He turns back to where Ianto is watching him from the center of the room.
"It's not how others see us that worries me," Jack says, taking another sip of the brandy. "It's how I see us, how it affects me. I can't allow--" He cuts himself off, not quite sure how to put it. He pauses before speaking again. Walks over to the desk and sets his glass down. "I can't let anyone change the way I make decisions, the way I do my job. Too many lives depend on it. I can't let you own me, Ianto." Ianto sighs, pushes his suit jacket aside and places his hands on his hips, slouching, tired.
"I'm not saying I want to own you," he says, eyes soft and sad. "I don't think anyone could. I don't think anyone should." He closes his eyes for a moment, scrubs a hand over his face. When he looks back up at Jack, there's something fierce in his expression. He moves across the room until there's barely a foot of space separating them.
"And you don't own me," Ianto continues. "So I'm not going to put up with it anymore; with you hiding behind your guilt, pushing everyone away to protect your over-inflated sense of duty. Because if you don't give what you feel for us a name and manage to fit it into your little world of self-denial, then it can't hurt you, right?" Ianto looks at Jack accusingly, searches his expression.
"I understand it's complicated," Ianto continues. "I understand you're terrified of loss; we all are. But that doesn't mean you should numb yourself to everyone around you." His words strike a little too close to home. Before Jack realizes it, he's pushed closer to Ianto, practically snarling into his lover's face.
"You think you can tell me what I should and shouldn't do?" Jack bites out. All the pain and anger rushes to the fore, and Jack feels a surge of malice, wants to lash out. "You have no idea what it's like, how long I've had to live with it. It's my business, not yours. Where do you get off, tea boy? What makes you think you've got the right?"
The only time Jack was as pissed at Ianto as he is now was during the Lisa incident. Ianto didn't back down then, either. Jack finds himself slammed against the wall, Ianto pinning his wrists to either side of his head. Jack pushes up against him, struggles a little. Ianto winces, but his grip only tightens. Blue meets blue as they glare at each other.
"Because Captain," Ianto growls, "I'm still your employee, I'm still your friend, and I'm still the person you share a bed with. I'm done being afraid. I'm done being cowed by your deflections, and I'm going to tell you the things you don't want to hear until you bloody well believe them."
Jack pushes against him once more, shouts out, "What the hell--" but he's forced into silence again when Ianto lets up for a moment only to slam him a bit roughly against the wall.
"I'm going to tell you it wasn't your fault," Ianto continues, brow furrowed. "Not Tosh and Owen, not Gray, because in spite of what you might think, the world doesn't revolve around you so completely, and their actions were the result of personal choices that you had nothing to do with.'
'I'm going to tell you that bad things happen no matter what we try to do. We just have to learn to cope, and you don't have to deal with it alone. Because learning to cope with it involves fucking talking to other people instead of flashing a grin and pretending everything is fine. Pretending to be the Captain instead of Jack."
Gradually, Jack goes limp in Ianto's grasp. Ianto's statements are stern, confident, and Jack can't seem to deny them when they're spoken softly in that deep, steady voice, melodic vowels washing over him like absolution. He clenches his eyes shut, turns his face away.
Ianto releases Jack's wrists, and Jack lets them fall to his sides. A slight tremor begins to shake his frame, but otherwise Jack remains rooted to the spot. Ianto's voice becomes hushed, and he's so close that Jack can feel the next words whisper across his skin.
"I'm going to tell you that you can't shut me out, no matter how hard you try," Ianto says. He pauses then, breathing in deeply.
"And I'm going to tell you," Ianto says, voice barely above a whisper, "that even though you're being a selfish, cowardly twat, I'm still...I'm still in love with you."
Jack's eyes fly open. Ianto's expression is soft but shuttered. Jack can tell he's terrified; Ianto only looks this way when everything's gone to shit but they're all acting like it hasn't.
Ianto's in love with him.
He knows; it would be impossible for him to not know. Ianto may have done his best to hide it, but Jack isn't stupid and he's certainly been around a lot longer than the young Welshman. When it was left unspoken, Jack could simply ignore it, turn a blind eye. The silence was a buffer of security. Ianto's stripped that away along with every last inch of Jack's denial.
"I..." Jack chokes out, unable to finish the statement.
Can't. Shouldn't. Won't.
Ianto seems to get it, though. He doesn't look surprised at all, but his expression goes so devastated for a moment Jack nearly lets out a sob borne of sympathy. Along with the sorrow, Ianto looks resigned, a last tiny flicker of hope dying out. Lingeringly, he steps back, out of Jack's personal space. Like he's saying goodbye.
"I know," Ianto says softly, arms crossing in self-defense. "I've known for a while. It's alright."
They both know it's not. Ianto pauses for a moment, gathers his reserve while Jack stays motionless against the wall.
"But you have to make a choice, Jack," Ianto says finally. "You can't keep me in limbo like this. Either you admit we are something more than an occasional fuck to each other, or you go back to being only my boss, I go back to being just your employee." Something inside Jack screams out in protest. He really has let it go too far if even the possibility of losing Ianto feels like a bullet ripping into his chest. He opens his mouth to speak, but Ianto raises a hand to silence him.
"I'm due a little respect, and I'm done with...with having my feelings minimized so that you can continue to be the perfect soldier... free of complications and sentiment," Ianto says, voice shaky. "I love you. That's not going to change." Now Ianto's the one trembling slightly, eyes suspiciously bright.
"But if you don't want to be with me as more than a fuck, then for God's sake," Ianto closes his eyes, pushes the words out around a tightened throat, "let me go so that I can get over you, because I'm not sure that...I'm not sure that I have the strength to end this myself."
Ianto's laid himself completely bare, arms crossed like a sheild, seeming to hold himself up. He looks so young, so broken that Jack's entire body aches to hold him. A fresh wave of self-recrimination washes over Jack. He's done this, hasn't he? The responsible thing to do, the decent thing to do, would be to walk away, let Ianto get on with his life.
For all his self-denial, Jack can be surprisingly selfish at times.
Frantically, almost against his will, Jack pushes off from the wall and puts his arms around Ianto in a desperate embrace. With a choked-off sob, Ianto melts against him, muscles recently clenched relaxing slowly, letting Jack take his weight. Ianto buries his face against Jack's neck, and Jack lets out a teary laugh, pulling Ianto even closer until their bodies are flush together.
"I don't deserve you," Jack whispers, pressing a kiss into Ianto's hair.
"Probably not," Ianto says, half-joke, half-truth. He pulls back, eyes still shining, a tentative smile creeping onto his face. "Where would any of us be if we got exactly what we deserve, I wonder?" Jack kisses the corner of Ianto's mouth, his cheeks, tongue darting out to catch the few tears that managed to escape.
"I'll only ruin you," Jack points out, giving Ianto an escape if he wants it. Ianto chuckles sadly.
"Bit late for that, isn't it?" he asks, the smile growing bolder on his face. He leans in, kisses Jack chastely. "I've made my decision."
The statement causes something inside Jack to snap, and he cups Ianto's face in both hands, bringing their lips together. The kiss is surprisingly soft, tongues twining slowly, a fire building gradually between them. Ianto's hands are grasping Jack's hips, his palms burning like a brand, and Jack moans helplessly before deepening the kiss further, pushing against Ianto to eliminate any possible space between them. After long moments, he pulls his lips away, dropping them to Ianto's neck, lapping at his pulse-point before scraping teeth along his jaw. Ianto shudders.
"God, I want you," Jack confesses, already achingly hard. Ianto pushes a leg in between Jack's thighs, the cradle of their hips slotting together, and Jack can feel Ianto's just as desperate as he is.
"You've always made that abundantly clear," Ianto whispers wickedly. Something about the way he says it sounds off, though. Jack pulls back and sees the shadows at the back of Ianto's eyes, the self-doubt, confusion. Wondering if Jack really wants him at all.
"Have I?" Jack asks seriously. Ianto lets a startled bit of sadness shine through, his eyes darting away before he hugs Jack close again. Jack frowns.
I've really messed up here, haven't I?
Jack lets out a deep breath, pulls back and offers Ianto his hand. Ianto raises an eyebrow but takes it without questioning. Jack kisses the back of Ianto's knuckles before tugging him to the ladder leading to Jack's bedroom.
They climb down in silence, and when their feet hit the ground, they turn to stare at each other. Jack steps closer, slides an arm around Ianto's waist before tilting their foreheads together. They breathe the same air for a moment, and then Ianto moves until they're cheek to cheek, like they're dancing. Jack's hands caress slowly up and down Ianto's back, moving to his shoulders, fingers rubbing nonsensical patterns across the back of Ianto's neck.
Ianto watches him with a question in his hooded eyes. The younger man seems a little thrown-off, unsure of himself, hesitant. This isn't the normal tone of their encounters. There's a heaviness to the air. Every one of their movements seem charged with meaning, every touch seems heightened with an unusual intimacy.
Good, Jack thinks with sudden clarity. He realizes he doesn't want anything about this to be business as usual.
He wants to erase any self-doubt from Ianto's mind. Because Jack may deny a lot of things, but he can't deny this anymore. The electricity sparking between them, how their bodies seem to fit together perfectly. How Ianto Jones moves Jack in ways that no one else ever has.
"Jack--" Ianto begins, his tone questioning. Jack cups his cheek, rubs his thumb over Ianto's lower lip to quiet him. Finally, Jack seals their mouths together.
They kiss for a long time, Jack attempting to convey the things he can't find the words to say, to let Ianto know he is wanted, cared for, maybe even needed, even if Jack can't bring himself to love in the way Ianto deserves. He maps out the inside of his lover's mouth before twisting their tongues together, pulling Ianto's tongue back into his mouth and sucking sharply until Ianto moans. Ianto pushes up against him, hips rocking slowly together, a tantalizing hint of what's to come.
Jack pulls back from the kiss with a small twinge of regret. Ianto's lips are reddened, face flushed, pupils dilated to the point that a small, brilliant ring of iridescent blue stands out against the black. Ianto's looking at Jack like he's the most amazing thing Ianto's ever seen.
Like he's in love.
Christ.
"You're gorgeous," Jack whispers, runs his hands up and down Ianto's back like he's incapable of staying still, like he can't stop touching. Ianto smiles, kisses the spot where Jack's neck and jaw meet.
"So're you," he says, just as hushed. Jack can't help the grin that splits his face at that. Nor can he help the slight tremor and gasp Ianto elicits by leaning in to swirl his tongue on the skin behind Jack's ear.
With a moan, Jack's hands move to Ianto's tie, deft fingers loosening it before hanging it on the ladder leading up to Jack's office. He unbuttons Ianto's shirt slowly by feel as Ianto continues to lick and suck on his neck. In the process, Jack bumps his hand up against the gauze pad taped to Ianto's right side. Ianto's hands clench on Jack's hips, and he lets out a startled grunt of pain.
"Sorry," Jack says quickly, pulling back and placing a hand on Ianto's chest to get some distance to assess the damage. The dressing is about nine inches long, five inches wide, a reddish-tinge bleeding through in a couple spots. Jack's thankful for the strong heart-beat he can feel pounding against the palm still placed on Ianto's chest. He closes his eyes for a moment in relief.
"How bad?" Jack asks, angry with himself for not asking sooner. He lets his hand fall from Ianto's chest, fingers skirting feather-light around the medical tape, tracing its shape. Ianto shivers.
"The guard only clipped me," he says. "Three shallow cuts, 27 stitches. I'm fine." Jack's fingers continue to brush around the covered wounds, forehead knit into a frown.
"Guess we'll just have to be careful then," he says finally, moving to push Ianto's shirt off completely, tossing it onto the back of a chair. "Martha will kick my ass if you pop a stitch." Ianto chuckles.
"I'm sure we'll manage," he says, before leaning in to kiss Jack. It doesn't take long for the passion to build again, and while they kiss he pushes the braces down Jack's shoulders. Jack pulls back enough to take them off and lets Ianto unbutton his shirt. He takes off the t-shirt underneath and pulls Ianto into his arms again, both of them letting out a surprised hiss at the shock of skin-on-skin contact. Time seems to slow down and speed up at once, hands mapping out backs and chests, lips meeting and caressing before pulling away for desperate gasps of air.
Jack's mouth takes Ianto's in a deep kiss, plundering, dominating as Jack backs him up to the bed, laying him down on it gently before kneeling to remove Ianto's shoes and socks. Ianto stares at the ceiling, mind racing so quickly that it might as well be blank. He lays helplessly, unable to move, skin tingling in the cold air of the subterranean room. A ringing noise fills Ianto's ears, only interrupted by the quickened beating of his heart, blood rushing. He feels hands gently peeling off his socks, fingers pausing to rub against the impressions left from them on his ankles.
Jack's touching him like he's cherished, like this means something, and it feels transcendental and beautiful at the same time that it breaks Ianto's heart.
Jack leans up over the bed after removing both their shoes and socks to unbuckle Ianto's belt. He cups Ianto's erection through his pants, heel rubbing in a circular motion against the swollen head. Ianto's hips surge into the touch, the younger man sprawled out and panting. Jack takes it all in, eyes running hungrily over Ianto's body.
"Jack," Ianto groans. "Please."
Jack pulls the zip down, running his fingers along the shaft through Ianto's boxers before hooking his fingers in the waistband. Ianto lifts his hips and Jack pulls the younger man's underwear and pants off in one motion. He rushes to finish stripping himself, Ianto wanton and naked on his bed prompting him to move quickly. Finally, he crawls into the bed next to him, reveling in the feel of skin against skin from head to toe.
Jack crawls on top of Ianto when the younger man tugs pleadingly at his hips, careful not to put any weight on Ianto's bad side. They lay against each other and kiss, making out like teenagers. Jack grinds his cock lightly against Ianto's. They're both throbbing in desire, every brush and movement bringing them closer to the edge. Ianto doesn't want the sweet press of lips to end, though, wants this feeling of closeness to last longer. It's like he's drinking air from Jack's lungs.
Eventually Jack pulls back and presses an open-mouthed kiss to Ianto's shoulder, moving down to lick across his collarbones. He bites down suddenly, and Ianto groans. Ianto's hands clutch Jack's back, nails digging bluntly into skin. Jack doesn't let up, licking, sucking, and biting until a vivid bruise stands out against the pale flesh. He barely pauses before moving further, kissing down Ianto's chest until he's pulling a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking, finally giving a light nip. Ianto tugs on Jack's hair, torn between pressing his chest closer to Jack's mouth and moving it away, the feeling so intense he can hardly bare it.
"Jack," he pants out, desperate. He reaches down, grabs Jack's cock and squeezes. Jack moans harshly. "I can't take anymore. Too close... just--just fuck me. Please." Jack shudders at the words, gives Ianto's nipple one last lick before pulling back, scrabbling under the pillow to grab the lube.
"Turn around," Jack says when he's got it, pausing to give Ianto's cock one long lick from base to tip, staring up at the younger man. Jack's beautiful when he's like this, blue eyes blazing, hair disheveled, lips swollen. Overtly sexual. Ianto bites back a moan. "On your knees."
Ianto doesn't even think about it before he's obeying. He rolls over, buries his face in his hands, legs spread. He shakes when he feels one long, slick finger push into him, moving inside him before two more are added. Ianto's hips move with the motion as Jack finger fucks him. He lets out a curse whenever Jack barely brushes against his prostate. Jack's careful to skirt just on the edges of the spot, keeping Ianto begging, torturing him with the few whispers of pleasure he's allowed. After what feels like hours of teasing, Jack nudges Ianto's legs farther apart. Ianto feels the thickness of Jack's cock push against his loosened opening, and with a frantic moan, Jack's pushing himself in slowly until he's seated as deeply as he can get.
"Fuck, Ianto," Jack moans, feeling his lover surround him, muscles squeezing down as Ianto pushes back. "Lean back against me," Jack instructs, palm reaching around to rest on Ianto's chest, pushing him back and up.
Ianto grasps onto the headboard for balance, pushing up until Jack's chest is flush against his back. Ianto's thighs are splayed obscenely over Jack's, both of them kneeling upright. Jack rotates his hips up sharply, and Ianto screams. The change in angle brings Jack's cock there, there-- right up against Ianto's sweet spot, pressing into it constantly, the small rotation of Jack's hips pushing into it even further. Ianto's breath chokes in his lungs when Jack moves again, the sensation more acute than Ianto thought was possible. Jack keeps one hand on Ianto's chest to steady him, and the other drops to Ianto's lower stomach, pressing in with the heel of his hand as he rotates his hips against Ianto's ass. Jack never really pulls back to thrust but keeps up the steady, circular motion, seeming to move deeper into Ianto each time.
Ianto lets go of the headboard with one hand, reaching back to grab Jack's hip, pulling, encouraging him closer. It's never been this way before- his heart feels like it's about to pound out of his chest, breath coming in sobs, the exquisite flood of feeling zinging from where Jack is pressing inside of him to his palm on Ianto's belly, the back of his hand brushing up against Ianto's twitching erection with every movement. Ianto can barely breathe, incoherent pleas falling from his lips.
Jack is equally destroyed. He bites down harshly on Ianto's shoulder when a particularly intense wave of pleasure washes over him, groaning deep in his chest, just barely managing to hold on. He can feel Ianto's asshole clenching and releasing around him, shuddering at the feel of Ianto's fingers digging into his hip. Their movements are so gentle, restrained, not really fucking so much as writhing against one another, pressed almost too tightly together, pleasure skirting the line of pain.
"I want you to feel me," Jack says breathlessly, pressing down harder on Ianto's stomach with his palm. "Feel how hard I am for you, how deep I am inside you."
"Yes," Ianto moans, straining. "Jack...Jack!"
"I bet you could come just from this," Jack growls. "I bet I don't even have to touch your cock." He licks the back of Ianto's neck, biting down briefly, shuddering as Ianto's inner muscles squeeze him tight again. He knows Ianto's right on the edge, shuddering and shaking in his arms, so close he can taste it. Jack's right there with him.
"I want you to come for me, Ianto," Jack whispers, sliding his hand from its place on Ianto's belly down, giving his balls a teasing caress before moving further to the strip of skin behind them. It's slick from the lube and stretched from Jack's cock. Jack's fingers run along the place where they're joined before pressing up against the patch of skin hard, rotating his fingers over and over, pushing his cock as far into Ianto as he can go. "Now."
The shock from the double stimulation to his prostate pushes Ianto higher and higher and higher until his orgasm explodes out from his stomach to the tips of his toes and fingers. Ianto's vaguely aware of the fact that he's screaming Jack's name, his vision whiting out, wave after wave of ecstasy and agony crashing through him until he feels like he must be dying. It's so good, so raw, so right that he can't even feel his hand gripping, knuckles white, against the headboard, his knees digging into the sheets. The only awareness he has are of the places where Jack's skin is touching his, sparks of sensation jolting through over-stimulated nerve endings.
Jack lets out a harsh shout as Ianto's inner muscles clench convulsively around him. He loses it at the sight of Ianto's head thrown back, a look of exquisite pain etched on his face, the sudden clamping of his hand on Jack's hip hard enough to leave bruises, the smell of Ianto coming onto his stomach, the sheets, Jack's thighs. He buries himself as deeply as he can go into his lover, cock jerking, throbbing out his own release, losing himself in Ianto's body. It hurts, feels like he's pouring all of himself into Ianto, but it feels amazingly good at the same time, so much more than he expected, pleasure and pain mingling until he doesn't know where one starts and the other ends.
They shudder through their intense orgasms together, gasping and moaning, muscles clenched. Ianto slumps against the headboard, and Jack allows his weight to fall against Ianto's back. They lean like that for a few minutes, catching their breaths. Finally, Jack kisses the back of Ianto's neck and pulls out slowly, wincing at the feeling of loss. Ianto shudders and turns around, collapsing to lay on the bed, pulling Jack with him. Their legs tangle together, Jack's head resting on Ianto's chest.
"Duw," Ianto swears softly, a smile pulling at his lips. He uses an edge of the sheet to wipe them off. He'd be disgusted with himself if he wasn't so fucking exhausted.
"Got that right," Jack mumbles. He leans up on his elbows to look at Ianto, concerned when he notices tear tracks on his lover's face. "Are you okay?"
"Hmm?" Ianto says tiredly, and Jack wipes away the tears left over with a gentle hand. "Oh. Didn't notice," Ianto says, a bit embarrassed. "I guess it was just kind of...intense." He leans into Jack's touch. Jack's expression softens.
"Yeah," he says, breathing deep. "I just... I wanted you to know--" He pauses, looks down.
"You were right," Jack says softly after a while. "I have a tendency to put duty before the people I care about. I don't know what I should be doing, but I do know that I haven't been fair to you... and I--I'll try to do better." He looks up at Ianto and gives a sad smirk. "I'm not going to change overnight, though."
"I know," Ianto says, taking Jack's hand and lacing their fingers together.
"And I...I don't know what exactly this makes us," Jack says quietly. "Maybe I'm being selfish, but I don't want to lose you. You're not- you never have been... just a fuck." He looks at Ianto for a long moment, holding his gaze before leaning down and kissing him softly, gently.
"I'm so sorry," Jack says, "that I can't... that I'm not--" Jack trails off, unable to twist the knife in the wound. The sentence remains explicit but unspoken.
...that I'm not in love with you.
Ianto's eyes close as if to shut it out. He opens them again, smiling sadly.
"I'm not... unaffected," Jack tries to explain. Fuck, I'm terrible at this. "What I was trying to show you-- I can feel this, Ianto." He places his hand on Ianto's chest, a warm buzz flowing under his skin at the contact, and from the softening of Ianto's face, he knows the younger man gets what he's talking about. "I do care about you-- So much. Too much."
"I understand," Ianto says, pulling Jack closer to him. Jack lies next to Ianto again, slings an arm across the younger man's waist, brushes a kiss against his shoulder. "I'd be lying if I said it was all that I wanted. But it's enough." Jack sighs contentedly and cuddles into Ianto's good side, breathing slowly evening out.
Ianto stays awake long after Jack, reminding himself his last statement was true.
It's enough. It has to be.
AN: *SOBS* sorry, sorry- Ianto just insists on remaining angsty and tortured, and Jack insists on remaining an asshole. It'll get better. I hope. Soonish. :(
TRANSLATIONS: "Duw" is Welsh for "God." In case you were wondering.
Part: 5.5 of 10-ish...
Chapter Title: In Which Ianto Has a Rather Confrontational Chat with Jack and an Exorbitant Amount of Make-Up Sex is Had.
Pairing: Janto, mention of Gwen/Rhys, mention of Martha/Tom, Ianto/Martha fag-hag fabulousness
Rating: NC-17...very much so. Graphically. ^_^;
Warnings: Post Season 2 Spoilers, General Angst, Tortured!Ianto
Excerpt:
"I take it the others have left," Jack begins, trying to instill his voice with confidence, getting himself ready for the conversation they're undoubtedly about to have. He shuffles the pages on his desk around like he's looking for some specific piece of information.
"Yes, sir," Ianto says. He places the cup of coffee at Jack's elbow and gives out an inaudible sigh when Jack only raises his eyes to the level of Ianto's chest. "If you don't need anything else, I thought perhaps you might want to discuss why you seem to find my tie so interesting."
After leaving the conference room, Jack goes to his office. He's staring blankly at a few reports strewn across his desk, pencil in hand, unmoving. With a sigh, he leans back in his chair, sticking his pencil behind his ear, lacing his fingers together and resting them against his stomach.
Jack hasn't even thanked Ianto for coming to the rescue. He hasn't asked Martha how serious the young man had been wounded, checked to make sure his injuries were taken care of. He's been unable to bring himself to look Ianto in the eye. All of these things are common courtesies Jack would unthinkingly give to a complete stranger, and suddenly he finds himself unable to accord them to his... lover.
He's acting like an emotionally-constipated teenager.
I'm too old for this, Jack thinks.
All it had taken was one little word to knock Jack completely on his ass. He's let things go too far. Without even realizing it, he's allowed Ianto to become an almost permanent fixture in his life. Jack's come to depend on him. It probably shouldn't be as terrifying a thought as it is.
He looks up when Ianto walks in, coffee in hand. Jack's jaw clenches, eyes skittering back to the reports on his desk, heart thumping rapidly in his ears.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
"I take it the others have left," Jack begins, trying to instill his voice with confidence, getting himself ready for the conversation they're undoubtedly about to have. He shuffles the pages on his desk around like he's looking for some specific piece of information.
"Yes, sir," Ianto says. He places the cup of coffee at Jack's elbow and gives out an inaudible sigh when Jack only raises his eyes to the level of Ianto's chest. "If you don't need anything else, I thought perhaps you might want to discuss why you seem to find my tie so interesting."
Despite himself, Jack's lips twist into a self-deprecating smirk.
"Well, you know how I feel about red silk," he jokes, finally looking at the younger man. Ianto smiles slightly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He remains silent, and Jack looks away again.
"Jack," Ianto says. "What is it?" Jack sighs.
"I never thanked you," he begins, the speech he'd been working on for the past fifteen minutes spilling from his mouth, "for coming to the rescue like that. You eliminated the threat, kept your wits about you, and pulled off the operation with style. I'm impressed."
"Just doing my job, sir," Ianto shrugs. "But I doubt that that's what's bothering you."
Jack frowns. A few months ago, he'd have said it would be unlike Ianto to be so direct. What surprises him, ironically, is that he's not really surprised by this new facet of the young man. It seems like a natural extension of Ianto now, a quiet strength Jack had noticed before manifesting itself out in the open.
"No," Jack takes a deep breath. Here comes the tricky part. "I'm afraid I haven't been completely clear to you, Ianto. The nature of our relationship... it's not... I mean, we-- you don't have a right to...to claim me like that." Jack's disgusted with his lack of ability to articulate what he means. He sees Ianto's eyes flash briefly, and then they narrow slightly as the younger man approaches him.
"Don't I?" Ianto asks quietly when he's directly across from Jack, setting his hands on the desk and leaning down so that they're almost at the same eye level. His gaze is burning, and Jack searches for some semblance of his former bravado.
"Listen," he starts. "I don't do this. I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not whoever it is you want me to be. I don't do relationships like that." Ianto lets out a frigid laugh.
"You don't do relationships," he repeats, "but you do take me out on dates, you do fuck me on a regular basis, and you do spend two or three nights a week sleeping in my arms. You do me, Jack." He pauses. Their eyes lock. Jack finds himself slightly stunned, unable to speak.
"So what's wrong with calling it what it is?" Ianto continues after a moment. "Gwen, Mickey, and Martha already know we're sleeping together. Within five minutes of meeting us, most people at least suspect something is going on. Why not acknowledge it? What is there to be afraid of?"
Jack stands abruptly, heading to the cabinet in the corner of the room and grabbing the decanter of brandy. He pours a drink and quickly knocks it back before pouring another. Jack's completely thrown. This is the new Ianto, the changed Ianto, the Ianto he thought he understood. He's being shown more everyday that he doesn't. He turns back to where Ianto is watching him from the center of the room.
"It's not how others see us that worries me," Jack says, taking another sip of the brandy. "It's how I see us, how it affects me. I can't allow--" He cuts himself off, not quite sure how to put it. He pauses before speaking again. Walks over to the desk and sets his glass down. "I can't let anyone change the way I make decisions, the way I do my job. Too many lives depend on it. I can't let you own me, Ianto." Ianto sighs, pushes his suit jacket aside and places his hands on his hips, slouching, tired.
"I'm not saying I want to own you," he says, eyes soft and sad. "I don't think anyone could. I don't think anyone should." He closes his eyes for a moment, scrubs a hand over his face. When he looks back up at Jack, there's something fierce in his expression. He moves across the room until there's barely a foot of space separating them.
"And you don't own me," Ianto continues. "So I'm not going to put up with it anymore; with you hiding behind your guilt, pushing everyone away to protect your over-inflated sense of duty. Because if you don't give what you feel for us a name and manage to fit it into your little world of self-denial, then it can't hurt you, right?" Ianto looks at Jack accusingly, searches his expression.
"I understand it's complicated," Ianto continues. "I understand you're terrified of loss; we all are. But that doesn't mean you should numb yourself to everyone around you." His words strike a little too close to home. Before Jack realizes it, he's pushed closer to Ianto, practically snarling into his lover's face.
"You think you can tell me what I should and shouldn't do?" Jack bites out. All the pain and anger rushes to the fore, and Jack feels a surge of malice, wants to lash out. "You have no idea what it's like, how long I've had to live with it. It's my business, not yours. Where do you get off, tea boy? What makes you think you've got the right?"
The only time Jack was as pissed at Ianto as he is now was during the Lisa incident. Ianto didn't back down then, either. Jack finds himself slammed against the wall, Ianto pinning his wrists to either side of his head. Jack pushes up against him, struggles a little. Ianto winces, but his grip only tightens. Blue meets blue as they glare at each other.
"Because Captain," Ianto growls, "I'm still your employee, I'm still your friend, and I'm still the person you share a bed with. I'm done being afraid. I'm done being cowed by your deflections, and I'm going to tell you the things you don't want to hear until you bloody well believe them."
Jack pushes against him once more, shouts out, "What the hell--" but he's forced into silence again when Ianto lets up for a moment only to slam him a bit roughly against the wall.
"I'm going to tell you it wasn't your fault," Ianto continues, brow furrowed. "Not Tosh and Owen, not Gray, because in spite of what you might think, the world doesn't revolve around you so completely, and their actions were the result of personal choices that you had nothing to do with.'
'I'm going to tell you that bad things happen no matter what we try to do. We just have to learn to cope, and you don't have to deal with it alone. Because learning to cope with it involves fucking talking to other people instead of flashing a grin and pretending everything is fine. Pretending to be the Captain instead of Jack."
Gradually, Jack goes limp in Ianto's grasp. Ianto's statements are stern, confident, and Jack can't seem to deny them when they're spoken softly in that deep, steady voice, melodic vowels washing over him like absolution. He clenches his eyes shut, turns his face away.
Ianto releases Jack's wrists, and Jack lets them fall to his sides. A slight tremor begins to shake his frame, but otherwise Jack remains rooted to the spot. Ianto's voice becomes hushed, and he's so close that Jack can feel the next words whisper across his skin.
"I'm going to tell you that you can't shut me out, no matter how hard you try," Ianto says. He pauses then, breathing in deeply.
"And I'm going to tell you," Ianto says, voice barely above a whisper, "that even though you're being a selfish, cowardly twat, I'm still...I'm still in love with you."
Jack's eyes fly open. Ianto's expression is soft but shuttered. Jack can tell he's terrified; Ianto only looks this way when everything's gone to shit but they're all acting like it hasn't.
Ianto's in love with him.
He knows; it would be impossible for him to not know. Ianto may have done his best to hide it, but Jack isn't stupid and he's certainly been around a lot longer than the young Welshman. When it was left unspoken, Jack could simply ignore it, turn a blind eye. The silence was a buffer of security. Ianto's stripped that away along with every last inch of Jack's denial.
"I..." Jack chokes out, unable to finish the statement.
Can't. Shouldn't. Won't.
Ianto seems to get it, though. He doesn't look surprised at all, but his expression goes so devastated for a moment Jack nearly lets out a sob borne of sympathy. Along with the sorrow, Ianto looks resigned, a last tiny flicker of hope dying out. Lingeringly, he steps back, out of Jack's personal space. Like he's saying goodbye.
"I know," Ianto says softly, arms crossing in self-defense. "I've known for a while. It's alright."
They both know it's not. Ianto pauses for a moment, gathers his reserve while Jack stays motionless against the wall.
"But you have to make a choice, Jack," Ianto says finally. "You can't keep me in limbo like this. Either you admit we are something more than an occasional fuck to each other, or you go back to being only my boss, I go back to being just your employee." Something inside Jack screams out in protest. He really has let it go too far if even the possibility of losing Ianto feels like a bullet ripping into his chest. He opens his mouth to speak, but Ianto raises a hand to silence him.
"I'm due a little respect, and I'm done with...with having my feelings minimized so that you can continue to be the perfect soldier... free of complications and sentiment," Ianto says, voice shaky. "I love you. That's not going to change." Now Ianto's the one trembling slightly, eyes suspiciously bright.
"But if you don't want to be with me as more than a fuck, then for God's sake," Ianto closes his eyes, pushes the words out around a tightened throat, "let me go so that I can get over you, because I'm not sure that...I'm not sure that I have the strength to end this myself."
Ianto's laid himself completely bare, arms crossed like a sheild, seeming to hold himself up. He looks so young, so broken that Jack's entire body aches to hold him. A fresh wave of self-recrimination washes over Jack. He's done this, hasn't he? The responsible thing to do, the decent thing to do, would be to walk away, let Ianto get on with his life.
For all his self-denial, Jack can be surprisingly selfish at times.
Frantically, almost against his will, Jack pushes off from the wall and puts his arms around Ianto in a desperate embrace. With a choked-off sob, Ianto melts against him, muscles recently clenched relaxing slowly, letting Jack take his weight. Ianto buries his face against Jack's neck, and Jack lets out a teary laugh, pulling Ianto even closer until their bodies are flush together.
"I don't deserve you," Jack whispers, pressing a kiss into Ianto's hair.
"Probably not," Ianto says, half-joke, half-truth. He pulls back, eyes still shining, a tentative smile creeping onto his face. "Where would any of us be if we got exactly what we deserve, I wonder?" Jack kisses the corner of Ianto's mouth, his cheeks, tongue darting out to catch the few tears that managed to escape.
"I'll only ruin you," Jack points out, giving Ianto an escape if he wants it. Ianto chuckles sadly.
"Bit late for that, isn't it?" he asks, the smile growing bolder on his face. He leans in, kisses Jack chastely. "I've made my decision."
The statement causes something inside Jack to snap, and he cups Ianto's face in both hands, bringing their lips together. The kiss is surprisingly soft, tongues twining slowly, a fire building gradually between them. Ianto's hands are grasping Jack's hips, his palms burning like a brand, and Jack moans helplessly before deepening the kiss further, pushing against Ianto to eliminate any possible space between them. After long moments, he pulls his lips away, dropping them to Ianto's neck, lapping at his pulse-point before scraping teeth along his jaw. Ianto shudders.
"God, I want you," Jack confesses, already achingly hard. Ianto pushes a leg in between Jack's thighs, the cradle of their hips slotting together, and Jack can feel Ianto's just as desperate as he is.
"You've always made that abundantly clear," Ianto whispers wickedly. Something about the way he says it sounds off, though. Jack pulls back and sees the shadows at the back of Ianto's eyes, the self-doubt, confusion. Wondering if Jack really wants him at all.
"Have I?" Jack asks seriously. Ianto lets a startled bit of sadness shine through, his eyes darting away before he hugs Jack close again. Jack frowns.
I've really messed up here, haven't I?
Jack lets out a deep breath, pulls back and offers Ianto his hand. Ianto raises an eyebrow but takes it without questioning. Jack kisses the back of Ianto's knuckles before tugging him to the ladder leading to Jack's bedroom.
They climb down in silence, and when their feet hit the ground, they turn to stare at each other. Jack steps closer, slides an arm around Ianto's waist before tilting their foreheads together. They breathe the same air for a moment, and then Ianto moves until they're cheek to cheek, like they're dancing. Jack's hands caress slowly up and down Ianto's back, moving to his shoulders, fingers rubbing nonsensical patterns across the back of Ianto's neck.
Ianto watches him with a question in his hooded eyes. The younger man seems a little thrown-off, unsure of himself, hesitant. This isn't the normal tone of their encounters. There's a heaviness to the air. Every one of their movements seem charged with meaning, every touch seems heightened with an unusual intimacy.
Good, Jack thinks with sudden clarity. He realizes he doesn't want anything about this to be business as usual.
He wants to erase any self-doubt from Ianto's mind. Because Jack may deny a lot of things, but he can't deny this anymore. The electricity sparking between them, how their bodies seem to fit together perfectly. How Ianto Jones moves Jack in ways that no one else ever has.
"Jack--" Ianto begins, his tone questioning. Jack cups his cheek, rubs his thumb over Ianto's lower lip to quiet him. Finally, Jack seals their mouths together.
They kiss for a long time, Jack attempting to convey the things he can't find the words to say, to let Ianto know he is wanted, cared for, maybe even needed, even if Jack can't bring himself to love in the way Ianto deserves. He maps out the inside of his lover's mouth before twisting their tongues together, pulling Ianto's tongue back into his mouth and sucking sharply until Ianto moans. Ianto pushes up against him, hips rocking slowly together, a tantalizing hint of what's to come.
Jack pulls back from the kiss with a small twinge of regret. Ianto's lips are reddened, face flushed, pupils dilated to the point that a small, brilliant ring of iridescent blue stands out against the black. Ianto's looking at Jack like he's the most amazing thing Ianto's ever seen.
Like he's in love.
Christ.
"You're gorgeous," Jack whispers, runs his hands up and down Ianto's back like he's incapable of staying still, like he can't stop touching. Ianto smiles, kisses the spot where Jack's neck and jaw meet.
"So're you," he says, just as hushed. Jack can't help the grin that splits his face at that. Nor can he help the slight tremor and gasp Ianto elicits by leaning in to swirl his tongue on the skin behind Jack's ear.
With a moan, Jack's hands move to Ianto's tie, deft fingers loosening it before hanging it on the ladder leading up to Jack's office. He unbuttons Ianto's shirt slowly by feel as Ianto continues to lick and suck on his neck. In the process, Jack bumps his hand up against the gauze pad taped to Ianto's right side. Ianto's hands clench on Jack's hips, and he lets out a startled grunt of pain.
"Sorry," Jack says quickly, pulling back and placing a hand on Ianto's chest to get some distance to assess the damage. The dressing is about nine inches long, five inches wide, a reddish-tinge bleeding through in a couple spots. Jack's thankful for the strong heart-beat he can feel pounding against the palm still placed on Ianto's chest. He closes his eyes for a moment in relief.
"How bad?" Jack asks, angry with himself for not asking sooner. He lets his hand fall from Ianto's chest, fingers skirting feather-light around the medical tape, tracing its shape. Ianto shivers.
"The guard only clipped me," he says. "Three shallow cuts, 27 stitches. I'm fine." Jack's fingers continue to brush around the covered wounds, forehead knit into a frown.
"Guess we'll just have to be careful then," he says finally, moving to push Ianto's shirt off completely, tossing it onto the back of a chair. "Martha will kick my ass if you pop a stitch." Ianto chuckles.
"I'm sure we'll manage," he says, before leaning in to kiss Jack. It doesn't take long for the passion to build again, and while they kiss he pushes the braces down Jack's shoulders. Jack pulls back enough to take them off and lets Ianto unbutton his shirt. He takes off the t-shirt underneath and pulls Ianto into his arms again, both of them letting out a surprised hiss at the shock of skin-on-skin contact. Time seems to slow down and speed up at once, hands mapping out backs and chests, lips meeting and caressing before pulling away for desperate gasps of air.
Jack's mouth takes Ianto's in a deep kiss, plundering, dominating as Jack backs him up to the bed, laying him down on it gently before kneeling to remove Ianto's shoes and socks. Ianto stares at the ceiling, mind racing so quickly that it might as well be blank. He lays helplessly, unable to move, skin tingling in the cold air of the subterranean room. A ringing noise fills Ianto's ears, only interrupted by the quickened beating of his heart, blood rushing. He feels hands gently peeling off his socks, fingers pausing to rub against the impressions left from them on his ankles.
Jack's touching him like he's cherished, like this means something, and it feels transcendental and beautiful at the same time that it breaks Ianto's heart.
Jack leans up over the bed after removing both their shoes and socks to unbuckle Ianto's belt. He cups Ianto's erection through his pants, heel rubbing in a circular motion against the swollen head. Ianto's hips surge into the touch, the younger man sprawled out and panting. Jack takes it all in, eyes running hungrily over Ianto's body.
"Jack," Ianto groans. "Please."
Jack pulls the zip down, running his fingers along the shaft through Ianto's boxers before hooking his fingers in the waistband. Ianto lifts his hips and Jack pulls the younger man's underwear and pants off in one motion. He rushes to finish stripping himself, Ianto wanton and naked on his bed prompting him to move quickly. Finally, he crawls into the bed next to him, reveling in the feel of skin against skin from head to toe.
Jack crawls on top of Ianto when the younger man tugs pleadingly at his hips, careful not to put any weight on Ianto's bad side. They lay against each other and kiss, making out like teenagers. Jack grinds his cock lightly against Ianto's. They're both throbbing in desire, every brush and movement bringing them closer to the edge. Ianto doesn't want the sweet press of lips to end, though, wants this feeling of closeness to last longer. It's like he's drinking air from Jack's lungs.
Eventually Jack pulls back and presses an open-mouthed kiss to Ianto's shoulder, moving down to lick across his collarbones. He bites down suddenly, and Ianto groans. Ianto's hands clutch Jack's back, nails digging bluntly into skin. Jack doesn't let up, licking, sucking, and biting until a vivid bruise stands out against the pale flesh. He barely pauses before moving further, kissing down Ianto's chest until he's pulling a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking, finally giving a light nip. Ianto tugs on Jack's hair, torn between pressing his chest closer to Jack's mouth and moving it away, the feeling so intense he can hardly bare it.
"Jack," he pants out, desperate. He reaches down, grabs Jack's cock and squeezes. Jack moans harshly. "I can't take anymore. Too close... just--just fuck me. Please." Jack shudders at the words, gives Ianto's nipple one last lick before pulling back, scrabbling under the pillow to grab the lube.
"Turn around," Jack says when he's got it, pausing to give Ianto's cock one long lick from base to tip, staring up at the younger man. Jack's beautiful when he's like this, blue eyes blazing, hair disheveled, lips swollen. Overtly sexual. Ianto bites back a moan. "On your knees."
Ianto doesn't even think about it before he's obeying. He rolls over, buries his face in his hands, legs spread. He shakes when he feels one long, slick finger push into him, moving inside him before two more are added. Ianto's hips move with the motion as Jack finger fucks him. He lets out a curse whenever Jack barely brushes against his prostate. Jack's careful to skirt just on the edges of the spot, keeping Ianto begging, torturing him with the few whispers of pleasure he's allowed. After what feels like hours of teasing, Jack nudges Ianto's legs farther apart. Ianto feels the thickness of Jack's cock push against his loosened opening, and with a frantic moan, Jack's pushing himself in slowly until he's seated as deeply as he can get.
"Fuck, Ianto," Jack moans, feeling his lover surround him, muscles squeezing down as Ianto pushes back. "Lean back against me," Jack instructs, palm reaching around to rest on Ianto's chest, pushing him back and up.
Ianto grasps onto the headboard for balance, pushing up until Jack's chest is flush against his back. Ianto's thighs are splayed obscenely over Jack's, both of them kneeling upright. Jack rotates his hips up sharply, and Ianto screams. The change in angle brings Jack's cock there, there-- right up against Ianto's sweet spot, pressing into it constantly, the small rotation of Jack's hips pushing into it even further. Ianto's breath chokes in his lungs when Jack moves again, the sensation more acute than Ianto thought was possible. Jack keeps one hand on Ianto's chest to steady him, and the other drops to Ianto's lower stomach, pressing in with the heel of his hand as he rotates his hips against Ianto's ass. Jack never really pulls back to thrust but keeps up the steady, circular motion, seeming to move deeper into Ianto each time.
Ianto lets go of the headboard with one hand, reaching back to grab Jack's hip, pulling, encouraging him closer. It's never been this way before- his heart feels like it's about to pound out of his chest, breath coming in sobs, the exquisite flood of feeling zinging from where Jack is pressing inside of him to his palm on Ianto's belly, the back of his hand brushing up against Ianto's twitching erection with every movement. Ianto can barely breathe, incoherent pleas falling from his lips.
Jack is equally destroyed. He bites down harshly on Ianto's shoulder when a particularly intense wave of pleasure washes over him, groaning deep in his chest, just barely managing to hold on. He can feel Ianto's asshole clenching and releasing around him, shuddering at the feel of Ianto's fingers digging into his hip. Their movements are so gentle, restrained, not really fucking so much as writhing against one another, pressed almost too tightly together, pleasure skirting the line of pain.
"I want you to feel me," Jack says breathlessly, pressing down harder on Ianto's stomach with his palm. "Feel how hard I am for you, how deep I am inside you."
"Yes," Ianto moans, straining. "Jack...Jack!"
"I bet you could come just from this," Jack growls. "I bet I don't even have to touch your cock." He licks the back of Ianto's neck, biting down briefly, shuddering as Ianto's inner muscles squeeze him tight again. He knows Ianto's right on the edge, shuddering and shaking in his arms, so close he can taste it. Jack's right there with him.
"I want you to come for me, Ianto," Jack whispers, sliding his hand from its place on Ianto's belly down, giving his balls a teasing caress before moving further to the strip of skin behind them. It's slick from the lube and stretched from Jack's cock. Jack's fingers run along the place where they're joined before pressing up against the patch of skin hard, rotating his fingers over and over, pushing his cock as far into Ianto as he can go. "Now."
The shock from the double stimulation to his prostate pushes Ianto higher and higher and higher until his orgasm explodes out from his stomach to the tips of his toes and fingers. Ianto's vaguely aware of the fact that he's screaming Jack's name, his vision whiting out, wave after wave of ecstasy and agony crashing through him until he feels like he must be dying. It's so good, so raw, so right that he can't even feel his hand gripping, knuckles white, against the headboard, his knees digging into the sheets. The only awareness he has are of the places where Jack's skin is touching his, sparks of sensation jolting through over-stimulated nerve endings.
Jack lets out a harsh shout as Ianto's inner muscles clench convulsively around him. He loses it at the sight of Ianto's head thrown back, a look of exquisite pain etched on his face, the sudden clamping of his hand on Jack's hip hard enough to leave bruises, the smell of Ianto coming onto his stomach, the sheets, Jack's thighs. He buries himself as deeply as he can go into his lover, cock jerking, throbbing out his own release, losing himself in Ianto's body. It hurts, feels like he's pouring all of himself into Ianto, but it feels amazingly good at the same time, so much more than he expected, pleasure and pain mingling until he doesn't know where one starts and the other ends.
They shudder through their intense orgasms together, gasping and moaning, muscles clenched. Ianto slumps against the headboard, and Jack allows his weight to fall against Ianto's back. They lean like that for a few minutes, catching their breaths. Finally, Jack kisses the back of Ianto's neck and pulls out slowly, wincing at the feeling of loss. Ianto shudders and turns around, collapsing to lay on the bed, pulling Jack with him. Their legs tangle together, Jack's head resting on Ianto's chest.
"Duw," Ianto swears softly, a smile pulling at his lips. He uses an edge of the sheet to wipe them off. He'd be disgusted with himself if he wasn't so fucking exhausted.
"Got that right," Jack mumbles. He leans up on his elbows to look at Ianto, concerned when he notices tear tracks on his lover's face. "Are you okay?"
"Hmm?" Ianto says tiredly, and Jack wipes away the tears left over with a gentle hand. "Oh. Didn't notice," Ianto says, a bit embarrassed. "I guess it was just kind of...intense." He leans into Jack's touch. Jack's expression softens.
"Yeah," he says, breathing deep. "I just... I wanted you to know--" He pauses, looks down.
"You were right," Jack says softly after a while. "I have a tendency to put duty before the people I care about. I don't know what I should be doing, but I do know that I haven't been fair to you... and I--I'll try to do better." He looks up at Ianto and gives a sad smirk. "I'm not going to change overnight, though."
"I know," Ianto says, taking Jack's hand and lacing their fingers together.
"And I...I don't know what exactly this makes us," Jack says quietly. "Maybe I'm being selfish, but I don't want to lose you. You're not- you never have been... just a fuck." He looks at Ianto for a long moment, holding his gaze before leaning down and kissing him softly, gently.
"I'm so sorry," Jack says, "that I can't... that I'm not--" Jack trails off, unable to twist the knife in the wound. The sentence remains explicit but unspoken.
...that I'm not in love with you.
Ianto's eyes close as if to shut it out. He opens them again, smiling sadly.
"I'm not... unaffected," Jack tries to explain. Fuck, I'm terrible at this. "What I was trying to show you-- I can feel this, Ianto." He places his hand on Ianto's chest, a warm buzz flowing under his skin at the contact, and from the softening of Ianto's face, he knows the younger man gets what he's talking about. "I do care about you-- So much. Too much."
"I understand," Ianto says, pulling Jack closer to him. Jack lies next to Ianto again, slings an arm across the younger man's waist, brushes a kiss against his shoulder. "I'd be lying if I said it was all that I wanted. But it's enough." Jack sighs contentedly and cuddles into Ianto's good side, breathing slowly evening out.
Ianto stays awake long after Jack, reminding himself his last statement was true.
It's enough. It has to be.
AN: *SOBS* sorry, sorry- Ianto just insists on remaining angsty and tortured, and Jack insists on remaining an asshole. It'll get better. I hope. Soonish. :(
TRANSLATIONS: "Duw" is Welsh for "God." In case you were wondering.