FIC TW: Combustion Chamber
Title: Combustion Chamber
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~300
Summary: And this isn’t supposed to be funny but he can’t stop laughing...
Notes: First posted in the Torchwood/Doctor Who Porn Comment Battle VII It's the first fic I've written in more than a decade and the first Torchwood, and the first porn. That's a lot for a measly 300 words to carry.
Letting his head fall back against the cool tiles Ianto gives himself over to the sensations of warm spray, of lipstonguethroat working his cock, and the brilliant fullness of anal beads coiled against his prostate. The “Jack Harkness Lazy Sunday Special” he’s come to think of it. Not that there’s any hardship in a steamy blowjob after a gloriously quiet morning.
Unable to resist the sight of the lips stretched around him, Ianto looks back down. Suddenly he’s close, so close, and he slicks dripping hair off Jack’s forehead, rubbing thumb over cheekbone in warning.
Jack responds by pulling off with a noisy slurp, solemnly intoning “Four,” and reaching for the silicone ring at his arse.
Ianto’s eyes narrow in confusion. There’s the barest hint of tension on the beads and Jack licks back up the vein of his shaft.
“Three”
No, no, no! He feels laughter well up, uncontrollable, emerging as a childish giggle that trails off to a moan.
Jack tongues at his slit and takes him deep once more. It’s too ridiculous and he can’t draw breath in the damp heat; his knees are about to buckle as he shoves at Jack’s head with a broken, “wait, wait.”
Grinning up at him Jack replaces swollen lips with the slide of one large hand and whispers, “Two,” barely audible above the cascade.
“Jack!” And this isn’t supposed to be funny but he can’t stop laughing at the insane countdown.
“One”
“Not…yet. I wanna…”
Before he can find the end of that thought Jack’s grin goes wide and filthy and he mouths “Zero!” against Ianto’s drawn up sac. Then a bead is breaching his hole and ripples pop as the long string is pulled steadily from his arse. He gasps “ShitFuckJack!” and comes in uneven, cackling pulses.
Smoothing fingers up through the spunk streaking Ianto’s wet torso Jack smiles warmly, “Liftoff.”
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~300
Summary: And this isn’t supposed to be funny but he can’t stop laughing...
Notes: First posted in the Torchwood/Doctor Who Porn Comment Battle VII It's the first fic I've written in more than a decade and the first Torchwood, and the first porn. That's a lot for a measly 300 words to carry.
Letting his head fall back against the cool tiles Ianto gives himself over to the sensations of warm spray, of lipstonguethroat working his cock, and the brilliant fullness of anal beads coiled against his prostate. The “Jack Harkness Lazy Sunday Special” he’s come to think of it. Not that there’s any hardship in a steamy blowjob after a gloriously quiet morning.
Unable to resist the sight of the lips stretched around him, Ianto looks back down. Suddenly he’s close, so close, and he slicks dripping hair off Jack’s forehead, rubbing thumb over cheekbone in warning.
Jack responds by pulling off with a noisy slurp, solemnly intoning “Four,” and reaching for the silicone ring at his arse.
Ianto’s eyes narrow in confusion. There’s the barest hint of tension on the beads and Jack licks back up the vein of his shaft.
“Three”
No, no, no! He feels laughter well up, uncontrollable, emerging as a childish giggle that trails off to a moan.
Jack tongues at his slit and takes him deep once more. It’s too ridiculous and he can’t draw breath in the damp heat; his knees are about to buckle as he shoves at Jack’s head with a broken, “wait, wait.”
Grinning up at him Jack replaces swollen lips with the slide of one large hand and whispers, “Two,” barely audible above the cascade.
“Jack!” And this isn’t supposed to be funny but he can’t stop laughing at the insane countdown.
“One”
“Not…yet. I wanna…”
Before he can find the end of that thought Jack’s grin goes wide and filthy and he mouths “Zero!” against Ianto’s drawn up sac. Then a bead is breaching his hole and ripples pop as the long string is pulled steadily from his arse. He gasps “ShitFuckJack!” and comes in uneven, cackling pulses.
Smoothing fingers up through the spunk streaking Ianto’s wet torso Jack smiles warmly, “Liftoff.”