(no subject)
Title: Jerico
Characters: Ianto Jones/Tony DiNozzo
Fandoms: Torchwood/NCIS
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: A crossover D/S fic. Not betaed.
Ianto made his way through the busy Cardiff traffic to the airport.
The email from Tony had surprised him. He’d not heard from the young Cop since shortly after he’d headed back to the States. He had been on secondment to Torchwood 1 before and during the Battle of Canary Wharf.
Ianto had discovered a strange connection with the young American as soon as they’d met. Six wonderful months followed, ended by the destruction brought on by the battle with the Daleks and Cybermen and Tony’s necessary return to the States.
It gave him a lot of reassurance that whatever Tony was running from; it had sent it towards him; it was a long way to come though.
Jack had given him a week off without any questions, which made him suspect that he had read his email. He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth though, and he’d agreed to be on call if anything important came up. After all it wasn’t as if Tony didn’t know what he did for a living.
He managed to find a parking place and made his way to the arrivals lounge. Finding a vantage point where he could see the entrance from Customs he leaned against the wall and waited.
Many people came through, but eventually Ianto saw the mess of brown hair that he knew so well. He strode through the crowd; people automatically making way for the well dressed young man in the immaculate suit.
“Tony” the musical Welsh accent cut clearly through the noise of the crowd.
The head looked up, eyes hidden by sunglasses, even indoors.
“Ianto” the usual sexy faintly mocking drawl was tainted by pain.
The Welshman moved forward and put a hand on the shoulder of the slightly taller man. He felt the tension in every muscle.
Ianto bent down and picked up the bag that had been dropped on the floor.
Increasing the pressure on the shoulder, he indicated that they should leave.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Tony nodded, not saying a word. They made their way out to the car, Ianto put the bag on the rear seats and watched as the other man lowered his lanky body into the seat. He noticed how much weight the older man had lost since he’d last seen him. His usual figure hugging clothes were loose, almost hanging off him.
These thoughts made Ianto even more determined to do all he could to help Tony; certain that he could go as far as the older man needed.
He got into the car and turned in his seat, facing the other man.
Tony turned fractionally to look at him, then looked down at the floor.
Ianto reached up and removed the sunglasses, making a deliberate effort not to wince at the dullness in the blue eyes, and dark almost bruised rings beneath them.
“Look at me” he requested firmly.
The blue eyes lifted.
“We will deal with whatever’s going on; I’m glad you felt you could still come back to me” he smiled gently, and ran his fingers down the cool cheek.
“You were always the best Master. Even though it was only a temporary arrangement for us. I hoped.” The grating voice paused. “I’m relieved and . . . . just; thanks.” A hint of a grin appeared.
“Master.” The word rolled off his tongue “I still love the sound of that coming from your lips pet.”
Ianto smiled, switching the car on; in silence they headed off. Shortly after he turned out of the airport he glanced over, Tony was asleep, lips slightly parted; lines of stress and worry still showing on his face.
The drive home gave him the opportunity, now that he’d actually seen the sort of state Tony was in, to consider what he would do. They only had a week, not as long as he would have liked, but better than nothing. From the way Tony has so quickly referred to him as ‘Master’ in a manner that appeared almost second nature it was clear that he needed to go straight into the Dom/Sub dynamic that they had had before. He smiled with pleasure at that thought.
Since Tony had left, and his life had descended into the chaos that had followed the destruction of Torchwood 1 he had only ever played. No-one had interested him enough to warrant more than an evenings entertainment. Soon after his employment at Torchwood 3 had begun he realised that Jack would make as equally a good and entertaining sub as Tony had. That was something that would have to come from Jack though, and something to perhaps consider again once he had dealt with Tony.
He turned the car down a wide residential street, and pulled up outside a large 1930’s detached house.
The house had belonged to his grandmother who had left it to him in her will when she passed away 5 years ago. He had let it out when he was working in London, but since his return to Cardiff had, in his little free time, worked on turning it into a home for himself.
He switched off the engine, and looked at the calmly sleeping figure of Tony DiNozzo. He leaned over
“Wake up Tony.” His said softly.
The sleeping figure gave a start.
“Sorry M. . . .”
Ianto put a finger to the other man’s lips, to stop him, and indicated they should get out of the car.
“It’s ok, you were tired. You look as though you haven’t slept in a week.”
“More like three” he replied.
Ianto held back a frown. He picked up Tony’s bag, locked the car, then went and unlocked the front door.
Tony was exhausted, but he noticed that the house was decorated in a similar style to how Ianto’s London flat had been, in neutral, airy colours.
Ianto led the other man upstairs to the main bedroom.
He put the bag down by the chair and turned to look at the other man. Taking a deep breath he walked over.
“Kneel pet.”
Tony immediately sank to his knees. It gave Ianto a immediate rush of blood to his cock, at the vision, however damaged, in front of him.
“I want you to go and have a shower, then dress in what I’ll put out for you and wait for me, just like this.”
There was no word from the other man, none was necessary, he would do as he was instructed.
“I’m going to go and prepare something for us to eat.” He turned to fetch clean clothes for Tony out of the bag.
“Not hungry.” The petulant sound of those words reinforced in Ianto’s mind just how off-balance the other man was. He would never normally speak out of turn, certainly not in that tone.
Ianto snapped round, blue eyes blazing.
“Did I give you instructions to speak?”
“No Master.”
“You would do well to remember that.” He knelt down in front of the other man.
“Look at me Tony.” Tired blue eyes met his.
“I will look after you. I will help you to feel whole again. Do you trust me to do this.”
There was a pause before Tony answered.
“Yes Master. Sorry for speaking out of turn Master.”
“Your apology is accepted; and you will eat what I prepare for you, you’ve lost far too much weight.
Tony smiled; some of the tension left his body.
Ianto stood and looked down. He certainly had a lot to achieve in a single week, but the thought filled him with warmth and excitement.
Characters: Ianto Jones/Tony DiNozzo
Fandoms: Torchwood/NCIS
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: A crossover D/S fic. Not betaed.
Ianto made his way through the busy Cardiff traffic to the airport.
The email from Tony had surprised him. He’d not heard from the young Cop since shortly after he’d headed back to the States. He had been on secondment to Torchwood 1 before and during the Battle of Canary Wharf.
Ianto had discovered a strange connection with the young American as soon as they’d met. Six wonderful months followed, ended by the destruction brought on by the battle with the Daleks and Cybermen and Tony’s necessary return to the States.
It gave him a lot of reassurance that whatever Tony was running from; it had sent it towards him; it was a long way to come though.
Jack had given him a week off without any questions, which made him suspect that he had read his email. He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth though, and he’d agreed to be on call if anything important came up. After all it wasn’t as if Tony didn’t know what he did for a living.
He managed to find a parking place and made his way to the arrivals lounge. Finding a vantage point where he could see the entrance from Customs he leaned against the wall and waited.
Many people came through, but eventually Ianto saw the mess of brown hair that he knew so well. He strode through the crowd; people automatically making way for the well dressed young man in the immaculate suit.
“Tony” the musical Welsh accent cut clearly through the noise of the crowd.
The head looked up, eyes hidden by sunglasses, even indoors.
“Ianto” the usual sexy faintly mocking drawl was tainted by pain.
The Welshman moved forward and put a hand on the shoulder of the slightly taller man. He felt the tension in every muscle.
Ianto bent down and picked up the bag that had been dropped on the floor.
Increasing the pressure on the shoulder, he indicated that they should leave.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Tony nodded, not saying a word. They made their way out to the car, Ianto put the bag on the rear seats and watched as the other man lowered his lanky body into the seat. He noticed how much weight the older man had lost since he’d last seen him. His usual figure hugging clothes were loose, almost hanging off him.
These thoughts made Ianto even more determined to do all he could to help Tony; certain that he could go as far as the older man needed.
He got into the car and turned in his seat, facing the other man.
Tony turned fractionally to look at him, then looked down at the floor.
Ianto reached up and removed the sunglasses, making a deliberate effort not to wince at the dullness in the blue eyes, and dark almost bruised rings beneath them.
“Look at me” he requested firmly.
The blue eyes lifted.
“We will deal with whatever’s going on; I’m glad you felt you could still come back to me” he smiled gently, and ran his fingers down the cool cheek.
“You were always the best Master. Even though it was only a temporary arrangement for us. I hoped.” The grating voice paused. “I’m relieved and . . . . just; thanks.” A hint of a grin appeared.
“Master.” The word rolled off his tongue “I still love the sound of that coming from your lips pet.”
Ianto smiled, switching the car on; in silence they headed off. Shortly after he turned out of the airport he glanced over, Tony was asleep, lips slightly parted; lines of stress and worry still showing on his face.
The drive home gave him the opportunity, now that he’d actually seen the sort of state Tony was in, to consider what he would do. They only had a week, not as long as he would have liked, but better than nothing. From the way Tony has so quickly referred to him as ‘Master’ in a manner that appeared almost second nature it was clear that he needed to go straight into the Dom/Sub dynamic that they had had before. He smiled with pleasure at that thought.
Since Tony had left, and his life had descended into the chaos that had followed the destruction of Torchwood 1 he had only ever played. No-one had interested him enough to warrant more than an evenings entertainment. Soon after his employment at Torchwood 3 had begun he realised that Jack would make as equally a good and entertaining sub as Tony had. That was something that would have to come from Jack though, and something to perhaps consider again once he had dealt with Tony.
He turned the car down a wide residential street, and pulled up outside a large 1930’s detached house.
The house had belonged to his grandmother who had left it to him in her will when she passed away 5 years ago. He had let it out when he was working in London, but since his return to Cardiff had, in his little free time, worked on turning it into a home for himself.
He switched off the engine, and looked at the calmly sleeping figure of Tony DiNozzo. He leaned over
“Wake up Tony.” His said softly.
The sleeping figure gave a start.
“Sorry M. . . .”
Ianto put a finger to the other man’s lips, to stop him, and indicated they should get out of the car.
“It’s ok, you were tired. You look as though you haven’t slept in a week.”
“More like three” he replied.
Ianto held back a frown. He picked up Tony’s bag, locked the car, then went and unlocked the front door.
Tony was exhausted, but he noticed that the house was decorated in a similar style to how Ianto’s London flat had been, in neutral, airy colours.
Ianto led the other man upstairs to the main bedroom.
He put the bag down by the chair and turned to look at the other man. Taking a deep breath he walked over.
“Kneel pet.”
Tony immediately sank to his knees. It gave Ianto a immediate rush of blood to his cock, at the vision, however damaged, in front of him.
“I want you to go and have a shower, then dress in what I’ll put out for you and wait for me, just like this.”
There was no word from the other man, none was necessary, he would do as he was instructed.
“I’m going to go and prepare something for us to eat.” He turned to fetch clean clothes for Tony out of the bag.
“Not hungry.” The petulant sound of those words reinforced in Ianto’s mind just how off-balance the other man was. He would never normally speak out of turn, certainly not in that tone.
Ianto snapped round, blue eyes blazing.
“Did I give you instructions to speak?”
“No Master.”
“You would do well to remember that.” He knelt down in front of the other man.
“Look at me Tony.” Tired blue eyes met his.
“I will look after you. I will help you to feel whole again. Do you trust me to do this.”
There was a pause before Tony answered.
“Yes Master. Sorry for speaking out of turn Master.”
“Your apology is accepted; and you will eat what I prepare for you, you’ve lost far too much weight.
Tony smiled; some of the tension left his body.
Ianto stood and looked down. He certainly had a lot to achieve in a single week, but the thought filled him with warmth and excitement.