torchwood/ Clouds in a coffee cup
Ianto holds the cup tightly, the porcelain is hot because of the coffee that he has just poured in it. He chews his lower lip as the Torchwood base is silent all around him, except for the insistent buzzing of the computer which Tosh has left running. He takes the bridge of his nose between his fingers and if he concentrates enough he can still fell Jack’s big and warm hands, all over him, caressing and squeezing. He takes a shaky sip of coffee, trying to remind to himself that the night before was just a casuality, that it cannot and should not become a habit, nor a hope.
Then the door clicks and from the summersault that his heart does he already know that he has lost, that the sparkles which he is feeling, the stupid butterflies in his stomach, mean hope, freaking hope which he should have never allowed to exist. Jack is leaning against the doorframe, cheeky grin on his lips and something melts and pools inside of Ianto. He grips the cup even tighter.
Jack’s voice is low when he speaks and it sends sparks of electricity down Ianto’s back.
“How come that you didn’t bring me any coffee?”
“I…I thought you were asleep.”
Jack quirks an eyebrow.
“Ad why are you still here, by the way?”
Ianto looks at the brown liquid in his cup, then he lifts his gaze again.
“It’s cosy here, isn’t it?”
He puts a cheeky smile on his face, trying to hide, even from himself, the desire to pull Jack closer, to ask the Captain to fill him again.
He remembers the pain that he felt at the beginning as Jack entered him, but then the sensation of being filled and complete and safe. When he opened his eyes in the morning Ianto didn’t regret it at all, it was Jack and that was enough to make it beautiful.
During the day the haven’t talked much to each other though, from a certain point of view it has been better because Ianto probably wouldn’t have known what to say, the memory of Jack moaning his name too fresh in his mind. It has also been weird, though, and uncomfortable, because he has always felt comfortable around Jack, as if it is the right place to be, and he has felt out of place not knowing what to say and feeling his heart beating like a crazy drum every time that their gazes have meet by chance.
Jack walks up to him and sits on the edge of Ianto’s desk.
“It is…but not when you try so hard to avoid me as you have done today.”
Ianto opens and closes his mouth, he knows that he must look like a fish without water. Jack reaches out and cups his cheek, Ianto takes a deep breath and puts the cup on the desk not to make it fall because his hands are slightly shaking.
Jack leans forward some more till their foreheads are almost touching.
“Do you regret last night, Ianto Jones?”
And under the almost mocking tone Ianto can hear the seriousness and the concern in his voice.
“I’m not made of glass, Jack.”
He brings up his hand and rests it over the Captain’s. Jack’s gaze is fixed on him, as if he is trying to fin a clue in the blue of the Welsh man eyes.
“And I wanted last night.”
His voice is barely a whisper but he knows that Jack has heard him. he swallows and leans some more against Jack’s hand.
“The problem is that…I may want more…”
Jack smiles and brings also his other hand up to cup Ianto’s face properly.
“And who said that I didn’t…”
Ianto feels heat pooling in his lower stomach at the feeling of Jack’s lips pressed against his own. Jack makes him get up from his chair and takes his hand, guiding him towards the bunker which is his bedroom.
The air gets stuck in Ianto’s lungs as he lays on the bed and looks up at Jack, the Captain’s eyes dark with desire, shining lightly in the half light. Having Jack looking at him like that makes Ianto feel as if he is the centre of the whole universe, and he has never felt like this before, not even with Lisa. He reaches up and gently pulls the Captain closer, till their lips touch. Jack takes off his clothes, paying attention not to crumple Ianto’s suit, he trails bee lines of kisses across the Welsh man pale skin, and Ianto arches his back, wanting more contact, wanting to feel complete again. He can feel Jack’s lips curving into a smile against his skin.
“You’re an impatient little thing, you know that?”
Ianto chuckles.
“It’s all your fault, sir.”
Jack smiles at him before backing up a bit to remove his own clothes. When he leans back again all coherent thoughts slip out of Ianto’s mind, as there’s only skin against skin and Jack’s warmth sinks into him.
Jack prepares his carefully, and Ianto can’t stop the moans which roll out of his mouth, wishing that Jack wouldn’t be so caring, because he really can’t wait any more. When the Captain slides inside of him Ianto squeezes his eyes shut, his blood roaring into his ears, Jack’s soft pants ghosting over his cheek. He knows that the bubbles of joy which he can feel exploding inside of him aren’t only pleasure, that the warmth which he feels as he comes and Jack comes inside of him means something more. And he hopes that Jack, who’s now kissing him tenderly, feels the same because he can’t deny the feeling which has blossomed inside of him any more.