FIC: 1st & 216th
It's tomorrow somewhere, so that means it's lawsontl's birthday! Happy Birthday!! I wrote a double drabble for you, read it, and thought, "Wow, that's not cheery. That's emo and depressing." And then I partook of the Frangelico. And I wrote a companion piece to it! It's a lot cheerier. They're each 200 words. Plus, for the resident foodie, some cupcakes. I need to get the recipes scanned...
1st
He'll be okay, as long as there's no kissing. A cliche, he knows. What's that about prostitutes and kissing? It costs more to kiss a prostitute. Jack's tugging at his tie, nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt, and Ianto hurries to reciprocate. Jack's moved to his trousers, dipping his hand inside, and Ianto's carefully controlled facade cracks minutely. Jack has short nails and calloused fingers, and an absolutely huge hand, and God, why does he have to be tender? It's just a hand-job. Ianto hasn't got Jack's shirt off yet, and he runs his fingers under it, gripping Jack's back. They haven't even made it to the little camp-bed. There's the sound of a belt hitting the floor, and then Jack's cock is rubbing against his own, heated soft skin and calloused fingers and Ianto can feel the ladder digging into his back. He bites his lip to stop from screaming as he comes. When Jack comes, he moans "Ianto," and the facade cracks just a bit more. Jack breathes hard against his neck, and Ianto closes his eyes. Jack's tongue is soft and slippery on his lip as he licks the blood. Jack kisses him, and he stays the night.
216th
He’s feeling really good, now that there’s kissing. Jack’s pressed up against his left side, ever so careful not to put any weight on his right. That’s not stopping Jack from shoving his tongue down Ianto’s throat, from sucking on Ianto’s lower lip, from rubbing his thumbs in circles along Ianto’s jawline. Ianto moans low in his throat, and Jack pulls back slightly. Ianto catches his breath, sinks deeper into the pillows Jack had plumped for him earlier. His ribs hurt and his head is still a little woozy, but Jack is right there, steady. Ianto runs his hands up and down Jack’s sides, tickling, and Jack laughs against his throat, moving in closer, licking his clavicle. He arches his neck, almost purring, and Jack laughs again. Jack’s hands are busy, slipping into Ianto’s pajama bottoms and rubbing his cock. Ianto’s eyes open wide; note the light from streetlamps filtering through the blinds to paint their writhing bodies in tiger stripes. Jack’s lips on his neck, Jack’s hand on his cock, Jack’s name on his own lips as he comes and collapses further into the pillows. He’s falling asleep when Jack kisses him. He knows Jack will stay the night.
Red Velvet:
Hazelnut Mocha:
Chocolate Mint:
1st
He'll be okay, as long as there's no kissing. A cliche, he knows. What's that about prostitutes and kissing? It costs more to kiss a prostitute. Jack's tugging at his tie, nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt, and Ianto hurries to reciprocate. Jack's moved to his trousers, dipping his hand inside, and Ianto's carefully controlled facade cracks minutely. Jack has short nails and calloused fingers, and an absolutely huge hand, and God, why does he have to be tender? It's just a hand-job. Ianto hasn't got Jack's shirt off yet, and he runs his fingers under it, gripping Jack's back. They haven't even made it to the little camp-bed. There's the sound of a belt hitting the floor, and then Jack's cock is rubbing against his own, heated soft skin and calloused fingers and Ianto can feel the ladder digging into his back. He bites his lip to stop from screaming as he comes. When Jack comes, he moans "Ianto," and the facade cracks just a bit more. Jack breathes hard against his neck, and Ianto closes his eyes. Jack's tongue is soft and slippery on his lip as he licks the blood. Jack kisses him, and he stays the night.
216th
He’s feeling really good, now that there’s kissing. Jack’s pressed up against his left side, ever so careful not to put any weight on his right. That’s not stopping Jack from shoving his tongue down Ianto’s throat, from sucking on Ianto’s lower lip, from rubbing his thumbs in circles along Ianto’s jawline. Ianto moans low in his throat, and Jack pulls back slightly. Ianto catches his breath, sinks deeper into the pillows Jack had plumped for him earlier. His ribs hurt and his head is still a little woozy, but Jack is right there, steady. Ianto runs his hands up and down Jack’s sides, tickling, and Jack laughs against his throat, moving in closer, licking his clavicle. He arches his neck, almost purring, and Jack laughs again. Jack’s hands are busy, slipping into Ianto’s pajama bottoms and rubbing his cock. Ianto’s eyes open wide; note the light from streetlamps filtering through the blinds to paint their writhing bodies in tiger stripes. Jack’s lips on his neck, Jack’s hand on his cock, Jack’s name on his own lips as he comes and collapses further into the pillows. He’s falling asleep when Jack kisses him. He knows Jack will stay the night.
Red Velvet:
Hazelnut Mocha:
Chocolate Mint: