In the Archives - Torchwood - Ianto/Tosh
Title: In the Archives
Pairing: Ianto/Tosh
Word Count: 675
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written for comment_fic.
Summary: Tosh and Ianto grab a moment alone together.
She tries to hold back her keening moans but it's impossible when she's suffering under Ianto's meticulous attention. Her glasses sit crooked on her nose but she doesn't have the strength of mind or willpower to correct them. Her head rests against the wall in the archives, her body pinned there by Ianto. It's easy to forget, when he smiles sweetly in his neatly pressed suit, that Ianto is much stronger than he lets himself appear. His body weight holds her up easily.
His hand is between them, having slithered down the front of Tosh's skirt a while ago and slipped inside the tight constraints of her pantyhose. Her legs are spread as they stand against the wall enough for his fingers to have slid between them, stroking attentively over her sex and moving at exactly the right speed. In this, Ianto is a perfectionist - just as he is in all other aspects of his life.
"Ianto," she whispers, her breath trembling. His thumb presses pleasure against her clit while his fingers brush against her opening, only ever dipping one knuckle inside at most. She wants more; she wants to feel him inside her, but hidden in the archives they don't have enough time or privacy. She can't imagine the shame she'd feel if Jack or Gwen or - oh god - Owen found them like this. It doesn't bear thinking about.
But she can't help the whimpers that escape from her as his skilled digits manipulate her cunt beautifully, making her completely and utterly his. "Tosh," he murmurs, his full accent rounding by her ear. His lips skim against the shell of her ear and she feels the hint of teeth, enough to make her gasp. "Are you close?"
She nods hurriedly, even though it's difficult to focus. "So close," she answers. She feels him smile, before he pulls back from her enough for his attentive blue eyes to watch her face closely. His hand speeds up, thumb thundering over her clit as he drives her steadily toward climax with surgical skill.
She's hardly aware of the sounds that she's making, high-pitched and barely muffled, because the only thing that she can think about is that boiling heat that's gathering in her cunt, washing through her, breaking the world into scattered pieces when Ianto brings her climax to her, making her come on his hand with a cry that's only silenced by his gentle lips pressing against hers.
He kisses her slowly, carefully, and his hand only withdraws from her skirt when the movements become sensitive enough to make her flinch away. He clears his throat and steps away from her; she can see her juices glistening on his hand and if her face wasn't already flushed from exertion than that sight would be enough to make her blush bright red.
"I'm just… Jack sent me down here to get the - uh - alien… The artefact." Gosh, speaking shouldn't be this difficult, but her thoughts are too scattered. She looks down to rearrange her skirt and try to look more presentable, because looking at Ianto while his eyes are dark with lust and while he's got that knowing little smirk on his face is simply too difficult. "The one we collected a few months ago. It glows."
"I think I know which one you mean, Tosh. Give me a second - I'll fetch it for you."
She nods, allowing him to begin to walk away - knowing that he needs to wash his hands before he can collect anything for her from this endless storage place. "Oh!" she calls after him on a sudden spurt of courage. "Are you busy at lunch?"
"Not really," he answers, turning back around to look at her. "Why?"
"I could meet you," she suggests, "down here."
It is, after all, only fair to repay the favour. When he smiles brightly and agrees, she doesn't try to stop the corresponding smile that crops up on her face - because being with Ianto, she thinks, is the smartest thing she's done in years.
Pairing: Ianto/Tosh
Word Count: 675
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written for comment_fic.
Summary: Tosh and Ianto grab a moment alone together.
She tries to hold back her keening moans but it's impossible when she's suffering under Ianto's meticulous attention. Her glasses sit crooked on her nose but she doesn't have the strength of mind or willpower to correct them. Her head rests against the wall in the archives, her body pinned there by Ianto. It's easy to forget, when he smiles sweetly in his neatly pressed suit, that Ianto is much stronger than he lets himself appear. His body weight holds her up easily.
His hand is between them, having slithered down the front of Tosh's skirt a while ago and slipped inside the tight constraints of her pantyhose. Her legs are spread as they stand against the wall enough for his fingers to have slid between them, stroking attentively over her sex and moving at exactly the right speed. In this, Ianto is a perfectionist - just as he is in all other aspects of his life.
"Ianto," she whispers, her breath trembling. His thumb presses pleasure against her clit while his fingers brush against her opening, only ever dipping one knuckle inside at most. She wants more; she wants to feel him inside her, but hidden in the archives they don't have enough time or privacy. She can't imagine the shame she'd feel if Jack or Gwen or - oh god - Owen found them like this. It doesn't bear thinking about.
But she can't help the whimpers that escape from her as his skilled digits manipulate her cunt beautifully, making her completely and utterly his. "Tosh," he murmurs, his full accent rounding by her ear. His lips skim against the shell of her ear and she feels the hint of teeth, enough to make her gasp. "Are you close?"
She nods hurriedly, even though it's difficult to focus. "So close," she answers. She feels him smile, before he pulls back from her enough for his attentive blue eyes to watch her face closely. His hand speeds up, thumb thundering over her clit as he drives her steadily toward climax with surgical skill.
She's hardly aware of the sounds that she's making, high-pitched and barely muffled, because the only thing that she can think about is that boiling heat that's gathering in her cunt, washing through her, breaking the world into scattered pieces when Ianto brings her climax to her, making her come on his hand with a cry that's only silenced by his gentle lips pressing against hers.
He kisses her slowly, carefully, and his hand only withdraws from her skirt when the movements become sensitive enough to make her flinch away. He clears his throat and steps away from her; she can see her juices glistening on his hand and if her face wasn't already flushed from exertion than that sight would be enough to make her blush bright red.
"I'm just… Jack sent me down here to get the - uh - alien… The artefact." Gosh, speaking shouldn't be this difficult, but her thoughts are too scattered. She looks down to rearrange her skirt and try to look more presentable, because looking at Ianto while his eyes are dark with lust and while he's got that knowing little smirk on his face is simply too difficult. "The one we collected a few months ago. It glows."
"I think I know which one you mean, Tosh. Give me a second - I'll fetch it for you."
She nods, allowing him to begin to walk away - knowing that he needs to wash his hands before he can collect anything for her from this endless storage place. "Oh!" she calls after him on a sudden spurt of courage. "Are you busy at lunch?"
"Not really," he answers, turning back around to look at her. "Why?"
"I could meet you," she suggests, "down here."
It is, after all, only fair to repay the favour. When he smiles brightly and agrees, she doesn't try to stop the corresponding smile that crops up on her face - because being with Ianto, she thinks, is the smartest thing she's done in years.