memoire involuntaire ; ( capnhotness )
A lack of subtlety is a bothersome thing in the life of one Ianto Jones, as he prides himself on maintaining his cool and calm demeanor no matter what. Alas, after a particularly exciting, er, scuffle, up in the tourist information office with Jack, he's looking a little more on the not side of well put together. Ianto straightens his jacket ( Read more... )
Unconscious of doing so, swept up in the memory, Ianto opens his eyes to find his head is down on the desk, breath coming hard. He has to take a moment to steady himself, to stop from trembling at the power of emotion and memory - what begins to sink in as Jack's memory, of their first meeting. The one that was lost, Ianto remembers, that for whatever reason Jack had been reluctant to put back, contained in a flower that is now no more than a bit of dust on Ianto's fingertips. He straightens, head throbbing and heart aching with the experience, weighed down with an inexorable sense of guilt. The memory is a private thing, Jack's own experience, and Ianto has no idea how to address the fact that he's inadvertently stolen it away - and what's more, he can't quite decide what to do with the emotions and recollections attached. Hearing Jack tell him what he thinks of him is one thing ... this is another entirely. And knowing what it's like for Jack to die and return again is a chilling feeling he could have gone his entire life without experiencing.
Ianto slowly sweeps the dust from the desktop into the bin, and closes the lid back on the box of memories. Jack's memory of their first meeting is tangled up with his own, now, causing what had once been buried in his own mind to surface anew. Christmas spent working at Torchwood London, standing outside in the 'snow' to wait for Lisa to join him for a coffee, being swept up into the captain's wild goose chase for a severed body part from an alien being. The attraction had been frightening, and the retcon a betrayal that Ianto had gotten over purely from having seen the necessity of such a thing. He'd gone home with Lisa that night, to tumble into bed with a strange sensation of guilt that he couldn't put his finger on, after all, too groggy from working all day on a holiday to properly remember.
Slowly placing the box back into the drawer, Ianto finds what he was originally looking for and pockets it, the discovery drawing his mind back to the present. Lisa is gone, the hand isn't even bubbling on its platform in the Hub anymore. Years have passed, and should this even be important anymore? In the here and now, Jack is upstairs, waiting for him.
Ianto takes a deep breath to steel himself before standing, and tries to spend the ascent up the stairs back to the tourist information office in coming up with an adequate reason why he has taken so long. By the time he rattles back through the beaded curtain, he should like to think he's at least partially back to normal.
Reply
Upstairs, in the back office of the tourist information center, Jack has been waiting oh-so-patiently for Ianto's return. It's a big step for him and quite impressive, considering his typical response to being within his own domain (the Hub itself) is to demand immediate action and reaction. Still, he's not once yelled for Ianto in the time that his lover has been gone, though by the time he arrives Jack is nearly on the verge of it.
"You just love making me wait," he accuses playfully once Ianto reappears in the doorway, leaning up from the half-prone position he'd formerly adopted across the length of Ianto's desk. "Did you find it, or did you make a run on the nearest store?" Jack grins, moving over to put Ianto's tie in a state of disarray again.
Reply
That Jack is still there in the back office comes as a bit of a surprise to Ianto, and he actually manages a smile as his tie is tugged loose again. "I found it," he answers, a vaguely distracted note to his voice - one that can hopefully be excused by the sudden renewed proximity. After all, he'd left the office with a distinct sense of purpose, directly related to arousal, and it might just be coming back, mightn't it? "Sorry for making you wait."
Reply
Having never left the office, and certainly not run into the same shock as Ianto, Jack is still just as aroused as he was the moment Ianto left, perhaps moreso with the waiting. "Nevermind," he dismisses the apology easily, tugging at the tie to focus Ianto's already straying attention. "You can make it up to me." Despite the suggestion of the statement, Jack doesn't seem very intent to wait, sliding the tie in question free of its knot and slipping the first couple buttons of his lover's shirt.
Reply
Still reeling from the resurfaced memories of that night - so long ago now - Ianto hesitates, but doesn't pull away. He draws in a breath, catching the heady scent of fifty-first century pheromones that he'd once thought to be a particularly alluring fragrance of aftershave or cologne, and can't help but be overtaken by the combined memory of their first kiss, pressed against that wall. Clutching at Jack's shoulders, suddenly, Ianto leans in and presses his lips to the other man's in a hard, desperate kind of kiss.
Reply
The fact that Ianto says nothing catches Jack's attention and he wonders, if only fleetingly in the wake of such a kiss, if something has happened in the interim to put an end to their typical, playful banter. Any question or protest he has is muffled by the forceful press of lips against his own and Jack certainly isn't one to pass up an opportunity. His fingers curl in the front of Ianto's shirt, leaning into the desperate sort of kiss and surrendering himself entirely to it.
Reply
Were Ianto entirely on par at the moment, he would know better than to let the banter drop. He would come up with some kind of answer. But as it is, he isn't on par, he isn't prepared for this, for coming back from this sort of thing. He knows that he should say something to Jack, should explain himself, because what happens when Jack goes looking for the memory? But Ianto can't, because he's too upset by his own reaction to it, and to even having the knowledge. He tugs down Jack's trouser braces and pushes him back in the direction of the desk again, all without so much as even coming back up for air.
Reply
Jack scatters various office supplies across and off the desk as he's pushed back against it, half-perching against the edge and bracing himself with one precariously placed hand. There's something like a protest lost somewhere in the kiss, muffled and drowned out by his sudden need to get Ianto as naked as humanly possible with the use of only one hand. He'll be forgiven for popping a button or two, won't he?
Reply
Jack will be forgiven for popping buttons and scattering office supplies, even though there's still a twitchy little part of Ianto that wants to pick up the items fallen from the desk. He does have the presence of mind to take the tube of slick from his jacket pocket and set it on the desk before he shrugs his jacket off, however, and then he lets the garment drop to the floor. Ianto insinuates himself between Jack's knees and reaches for the other man's buttons, working his way quickly and purposefully down the line. Finally in need of air, he pulls away and draws in a breath, before his lips drop to Jack's neck, more exposed now by virtue of an open collar.
Reply
Pulling himself entirely onto the edge of the desk, Jack squares himself with his lover and gives Ianto's waist a squeeze with his thighs. He exhales a reverent sort of sigh at the lips on his neck, tilting his head back to expose more of his throat. There's some sort of saying that might be applicable, about distance (the short distance between the two offices?) making the heart grow fonder, but words suddenly seem entirely out of place in the moment, banter left behind somewhere and replaced with a spontaneous passion he's not about to argue with.
Feeling out the last few buttons of Ianto's shirt, Jack tugs them free impatiently and pushes the piece of clothing off his shoulders.
Reply
Uncommonly careless about the matter of his clothes and where they're going - and the fact that he's going to have to put them back on when they're done - Ianto lets the shirt drop to the floor behind him, and promptly gives Jack's shirt the same off-the-shoulders treatment. Distance really has nothing to do with it, and Ianto can almost sense that Jack wants to say something, and he's very glad his husband doesn't. He tugs up the undershirt from Jack's trousers and pulls back long enough for it to go over the other man's head.
Reply
He does want to say something and the moment seems heavy with some sort of anticipation, as Jack is keenly aware - rather suddenly - that Ianto specifically doesn't want to talk. Something has changed between a handful of moments ago, when they were laughing and joking about the lack of preparation, and now, but Jack couldn't put his finger on the change over even if he wasn't entirely preoccupied with the feeling of his husband's lips and fingers.
Obediently, Jack raises his arms over his head to expedite the shirt removal, attention moving directly to Ianto's belt and trouser zip the moment he's bare from the waist up.
Reply
Something has changed, but Ianto isn't entirely attuned to the fact that Jack has noticed, either. He's too busy tossing the t-shirt aside and focusing his attention back to fastening his lips on Jack's neck and letting his hands drop to the other man's belt. The silence between them is bizarre, after so long spent with an endless stream of witty banter until the words just couldn't come anymore. It's almost like when they first met, first began to conduct their affair, all the hurried touches and stolen, forcibly quiet moments where they could catch them. When they were no nights spent over in flats or houses, just corners of the Hub or the archives or Jack's underground bunk. Ianto can't decide if he finds that reminder exhilarating in its nostalgia, or just saddening to feel as if he's brought back there.
Reply
After all they've had together, everything they've done, the silent reminder of what they were and who they'd been, no matter how good it was at the time, is a little too much for Jack. He has no idea what's gotten into Ianto, only increasingly aware of what is lacking between them now. Passion without warmth just doesn't suit them anymore. Jack slips a hand casually down the front of unfastened trousers to take Ianto in hand and stroke him slowly. Leaning up, closer, he exhales a slow breath against his lover's ear and murmurs, "I love you."
Reply
Whether it's the statement or the touch that prompts it is unclear, but Ianto draws in a sharp breath that's more a gasp, and he falters, hesitating just a beat in the motions of unbuckling Jack's belt. He spends a few seconds regaining his bearings before pulling the strip of leather free, and tilts his head down to nuzzle his nose against the juncture of neck and shoulder, the dip behind Jack's collarbone. "I love you," he responds, a whisper against the hollow there, and firmly wishes he could explain away his current ... mood.
Reply
For his part, Jack chalks the reaction up to the touch, rather than the statement (given that he expresses himself in such a way daily), and thinks nothing of the sharp breath or hesitance. "Have I mentioned how hot you are when you're aggressive?" he whispers, not wanting another lapse of tense silence between them, whatever the reason for it. (Though he does fall short of mentioning how much Ianto's taking the lead reminds him of hot trysts in his lover's London office, entirely unsure how he'd take the reminder of a so recently lost position.) Too impatient, he doesn't bother to remove Ianto's trousers entirely, occupied with the slow stroking and now tugging sharply at his lover's earlobe with his teeth.
Reply
Leave a comment