'Your Body tells Me Different'
A Jack/Ianto fanfic by 'Hazelayes' and 'Soarwiththewind'
Rating: Explicit m/m NC:17 Please, no minors!
Categories: Humour and pr0n with a side order of plot
Cast: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Rhys and Owen
Spoilers: Set after 'Meat' so, mentions of that and an event in 'Fragments', but on the whole, pretty spoiler-safe.
Summary: Pink dust falls on Rhys' car and it has a strange effect on everyone but Owen - "Well someone's got to stay in control"
Thanks: To Jimscki for the invaluable advice, and Avon_09 for the encouragement. The authors beta'd each other's work so all mistakes are in-house.
Disclaimer: Not mine, alas.
Rhys Williams checked his watch again. It said 15:46. The last time he'd looked it had said 15:40. The time before that - well, the details were irrelevant.
Jack had said 15.30 in the car park outside The Green Man, so he'd got here at 15.15 to be on the safe side, and he was still waiting. His head jerked as he started to nod off. That was the trouble with working a double shift. Rhys Williams, Undercover Agent for Torchwood and Area Manager for Harwood's Haulage.
He thought he'd better get out of the car and walk about a bit, try to wake himself up. He wanted all his wits about him if this "talk" Jack wanted was going to be anything like the stand-off they'd had a couple of days ago.
Rhys shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered away from the car for a few yards, turned and wandered back slowly, deep in thought. Jack was the kind of bloke that made Rhys feel tense all the time, challenged; like he'd always got to be on his toes, proving himself.
Jack was a natural leader, Rhys granted him that, and he did care about his team. Ach, it was Gwen he was talking about here really. Rhys didn't give a rat's ass about any of the others, nice people though they probably were when they were at home. And it was plain that Jack cared about Gwen's safety. If he could only convince himself that that was all the glamorous Captain cared about.
He stopped beside his car and looked at his watch again; 15:52. He gazed around absently, not really expecting to see the Torchwood SUV pull into the car park, even though he'd been waiting 37 minutes for that very thing to happen.
The solid Welshman looked away from the approaching vehicle and examined the pub. It wouldn't do for Jack to think he'd been standing here like a lemon for as long as he had. Schooling his face into a mask of indifference, Rhys brushed some dust from the roof of his car. He rubbed his fingers together. It felt like talcum, if talcum was pink and a bit sparkly. Maybe it was plaster.
Then Jack was there, smiling, apologising, shaking his hand, standing too close. Rhys sighed and took a step back.
-----------------
Jack watched Rhys back his car round and then pause to wave before pulling out into the early evening rush hour. The former Time Agent and con-man from the 51st Century smiled and looked down at his hand. The fingers were pink and hot, like they are when you've clapped hard to make the diva come out and do an encore. He rubbed them together thoughtfully.
So; Rhys had come into contact with something else that was 'out of this world'. It felt very much like one of those 'party' substances he'd come across when he was a teenager, short-lived mood enhancers or de-inhibitors mostly. He licked a finger. Glitter. You couldn't mistake its distinctive 'fizzyfruit' flavour. Jack grinned. It was harmless enough. Things might just get a bit weird for a while.
__________
The traffic was very slow round the St David's redevelopment and Rhys had plenty of time to go over what Jack had said to him in the car park. Well, sitting in the SUV actually, not standing in the open like a stand-off at Checkpoint Charlie.
It hadn't been that bad after all, Rhys thought to himself. Jack was a reasonable person... he'd been worried about his team, and Rhys' safety too. He could understand they wouldn't want a newbie out on such an important mission with an alien involved. Even if it had been more an object of pity than fear, it was a bloody big object.
Poor thing. And they said it was a baby! How could they tell? And what size must it's Mam be? Jack had been very upset by the whole thing, Rhys could tell that. They'd all been hit hard by it. Rhys shook his head. It had been a bad business.
His palms prickled on the wheel, and he felt a wave of nausea that made him groan aloud. That was all he needed, this week of all weeks, with a new driver to find and loads of orders. But maybe it was just the after-effects, the shock. What did they call it? Post Traumatic Stress.
Nah! It would take much more than a big kebab to make him need counselling. A bead of sweat began its journey down his temple, past his ear. Wait a minute! He'd had a kebab on Saturday, after the match! What if some of the meat...
The lights on the lorry ahead suddenly glowed a fiery red and Rhys hit the brakes hard, earning him a blare from the driver behind. He was definitely feeling the worse for wear now. Good job he was almost home. He wondered if Gwen was there, and if Jack had made it safely back to the Hub. Perhaps he should ring and check.
----------------
îIanto?ï
îSir?ï
îAre you at the hub?ï
îYup.ï
îStay.ï
îHmmmm?ï
îI suddenly find myself wanting to go to that pub near the cinema tonight,ï Jack said with an excited laugh. There was a momentës pause where Jack wondered if Ianto would decline, but then he replied.
îIsnët it karaoke night tonight?ï
îIs it?! Doesnët matter, they still serve drinks right?ï
îRight...ï Ianto answered dubiously.
Jack grinned to himself as he stopped at a zebra crossing, Ianto would be much more enthusiastic later.
______________________
By the time Rhys went to park his car, he could see that Gwen's was already there and he looked up to see the lights on in their apartment. He locked the car and pulled out his mobile, if he was going to ring Jack, now would be the time. Squashing down the sensation that he was doing something ridiculous, he found Jackës number in his phonebook and rang.
The phone continued to ring as he wandered across the road and stopped outside their building. When it went to voicemail, he considered cancelling the call because really, what kind of message would he leave? Then the beep sounded in his ear and the die was cast.
îHi!ï he started nervously, îEr; itës me Rhys. Just ringing to check you got back OK. I-er, just send a text or call quickly when you get this. Bye.ï
He ended the call quickly and dropped his phone in his pocket like it had suddenly become hot. He must be going off his rocker, he thought and realised that he did feel a bit light-headed. But being a practical man, by the time he was putting his key into his front door he'd made up his mind that it was nothing a meal and a good nightës sleep couldnët rectify.
_______________________________
In the garage at the Hub Jack stood staring at his phone. It told him he had one voice message, and it was from Rhys Williams. He pressed Select.
îHi! ...er; itës me Rhys. Just ringing to check you got back OK. I-er, just send a text or call quickly when you get this. Bye.ï
îYouëre having an affair with Rhys.ï
Jack almost jumped, sometimes Ianto moved like a wraith, silent and unnoticeable but for the slightest stirring of air. He looked over to where Ianto stood leaning against the door of the SUV.
Jack shook his head and smiled, îNo, not yet.ï
îYou want to have an affair with Rhys.ï Again the Welsh voice hadnët the slightest inflection or undercurrent that would suggest what he was thinking. "What about Gwen?ï
îYou want me to have an affair with Gwen?ï Jack almost squeaked.
Now Ianto scowled and looked away. îI donët care who youëre sleeping with Jack, you know that, but donët go wreaking havoc on their relationship. You have a habit of prioritising your sex compass over your 21st century ethics compass. And the trouble is, we poor Neanderthals haven't the will to deny you.ï
Jack ignored the reprimand. It didn't make sense anyway, not with Ianto standing there looking so edibly buttoned up and stern while at the same time admitting that he had no will to deny him.
Jack was drawn forwards, fascinated by the fact that the young Welshman seemed to look even more glittery and gorgeous (if that were possible) than usual. He could feel his own skin tingling from the dust and he just had to try and share it.
He grabbed hold of one of Iantoës hands and pulled him into a twirl, trying to pass on his own joyful glow. îLighten up, Mr. Misery, dance with me,ï The sensation had become increasingly heady as time had passed and Jack could only wonder what it was doing to Rhys.
----------------
îOh! This is so fun!ï Jack exclaimed, watching a pretty young blonde and her pretty young blond boyfriend singing some... song at each other. It would be safe to say he didnët recognise it, though Ianto seemingly did.
îJack. What is wrong with you?ï
îNothing!ï Jack responded, raising his voice above the din and grinning widely, îIëm just happy.ï
Ianto stared at him sceptically, but then appeared to take it at face value and turned back to his pint.
îIëm going to sing!ï Jack said finally, putting his glass down with a resounding thump and putting his phone into Iantoës hand.
îThought so,ï Ianto muttered under his breath and silently praying it wouldnët be as embarrassing an experience as the last time Jack had taken the microphone.
Jack leaned in and lifted an eyebrow. îAny requests?ï
Ianto just gave Jack a warning glare and watched as he went up towards the stage. There was nothing wrong with Jackës voice, in fact, there was everything right with Jackës voice. If he werenët so dedicated to guarding the rift and protecting Earth or whatever it was they did, he could have made an amazing singer. Then again, he still had eternity to branch out in to the entertainment business.
He recognised the song Jack had chosen immediately; it had been a firm favourite of the Captain's during Iantoës first few months at Torchwood Three. During his endless late nights in the archives, Ianto would hear the faint echo of Frank Sinatra.
As he moved towards the surface the sound would fill out and become mellow and he'd find Jack alone at Toshës desk and watching the screens or sprawled out on the sofa fiddling with some bit of tech, almost wallowing in the nostalgic tune. At the time it was the closest he'd seen to Jack relaxing.
As for the choice of music, Ianto had thought little of it. Jack had a taste for the clothes of another era, why not the music too. Then late one Wednesday night when heëd resolved to go home and catch some sleep, heëd heard an added voice to the familiar track.
It shouldnët have surprised him and yet he had found himself frozen on the steps from the archive, unwilling to intrude as Jack alternated between humming and singing as he leaned over Owenës desk to sign a pile of reports. Jack had a mesmerising voice, and Ianto was very much aware of its pull.
Watching now as Jack kept looking back at him to catch his eye even as he attempted to rouse a pretty unappreciative audience, he remembered vividly the moment Jack had somehow felt him watching from the stairway. They had stared at each other for many seconds.
îYouëre very good,ï Ianto had said to him when the silence between them had become awkward. For a moment, a look of surprised pleasure had flashed across Jackës face before heëd grinned and leaned back across the desk.
îIëm good at a number of things, Mr. Jones,ï heëd replied, his voice laden with promise, and Ianto had smiled and blushed and fluttered aimlessly for a second before fleeing to the tourist office for his coat with the sound of Frank Sinatra and Jack Harkness ghosting hot on his heels.
Iëd sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of having you near
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear
Donët you know...
It was easy to see that Jack's talent was wasted here, where people really just wanted an excuse to sing along to S Club 7 without seeming idiotic and yet his natural allure somehow had everyone captivated. Perhaps it was something about the gently curving mouth and twinkling eyes, or even the absurdity of the military coat. Whatever it was, Ianto found himself also being lulled by the comfort of Jackës strong voice.
Makes me stop just before I begin
êCause Iëve got you under my skin
Yes, Iëve got you under my skin
Then the Welshman found himself jerked out of his contented state by a familiar buzzing. He stared at Jackës phone vibrating on the bar. It showed Rhysë name on the screen and Ianto wondered if he should pick it up, but to his horror he heard the opening to NëSyncës êTearing Up My Heartë.
Ianto stiffened, and not in a good way. Not again! And he glanced longingly at the exit. But he couldn't leave Jack, no matter what. He pocketed Jack's phone and slid off the bar stool ready to make his way as unobtrusively as possible to the stage.
"Sorry Sir" Ianto muttered as he located the wire going from the backing track machine to a socket in the wall. He snagged it with his foot and the music stopped abruptly.
îJack, thatës enough, letës go,ï Ianto whispered as loudly as he dared, standing on the second step of the stage and trying to look invisible.
Jack turned to him and smiled hugely, the microphone at his mouth. îIanto!" he cooed, pleased as a magpie that had seen something shiny. Ianto's jaw dropped and the word SHIT seemed appropriate.
îJACK!ï Ianto hissed furiously, îthe microphone is still on!ï
It was then that he knew he should have high-tailed it out of there and left Jack to fend for himself, because Jack wasnët listening to him, and he wasn't going to. Instead a hand had shot out and fisted around his tie, pulling Ianto onto the stage.
"Youëre so pretty when youëre angry, you know that?ï Jack said, and the whole pub heard it. Then Jack kissed him.
It was the wolf whistles that brought Ianto back to reality and he pushed Jack away. îYOU! What... What is wrong with you?ï his own amplified voice echoing around the room. There were whoops and laughter as Ianto relieved Jack of the microphone and, taking his hand, pulled him off the stage.
îAre we having a domestic in public?ïJack enquired, apparently more amused by the idea than worried.
îThis!ï Ianto gritted his teeth as he navigated them both to the exit, îIs not a domestic.ï
îThen why are we leaving? I was having so much fun!ï
Ianto cursed Jackës loud voice as eyes followed them across the room until they were safely on a quiet, empty street. Ianto immediately made for the SUV, skin still burning with a blush and anger colouring his vision.
îWhat did you think you were doing? Weëre going back to the Hub right now. I canët believe you just did that... and after the last time! This is just typical...î
îSee,ï Jack murmured grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him to a stop, îso pretty,ï he continued, coming closer and Ianto couldnët help himself but still under his touch, letting Jack invade his personal space and press his nose against his cheek.
îJack,ï he said finally, trying to ignore the warmth of Jack's breath against his neck, îletës just... go.ï
îOK,ï Jack agreed, tilting his face slightly and flicking his tongue against Iantoës ear, îletës go."
Ianto stared when he noticed Jackës bright and far too blue eyes - he was clearly 'on' something. îIëll drive,ï he said, and he took the keys from Jackës hand. Jack drove like a man possessed at the best of times - god only knew what he'd be like when he was high as a kite.
îWhy so uptight, Ianto Jones?ï Jack asked leaning against the SUV and looking up at the stars with a happy smile.
"Good question," muttered Ianto quietly, just before he found himself pinned against the SUV, fingers dipping into the êTORCHWOODë imprinted on the side as Jack pressed their hips together and dragged Ianto back in for another kiss. Ianto leaned back as far as he could - he had to stay in control of this situation - but he found he was only pushing their lower halves closer together as he bent away.
îI think we should have sex,ï Jack said leaning forward for every centimetre Ianto had leaned back. Ianto stared up in slack-jawed shock at the blunt proposition, but the whole 'Jack' thing that this man had, the pheromones, the grin, the cocky confidence, the way it always wiped Ianto's good intentions; resistance was useless.
Ianto didnët even notice when his hand went from pushing at Jackës chest to wrapping around his neck and tugging him close enough to fuse their mouths together.
Jackës kisses were always dizzying, infusions of his unmoving warmth and laughter but this - Ianto thought as his body somehow agreed to be flattened on the hood of the SUV and his legs lifted themselves around Jack - this was something else. It was overwhelming, overriding all his instincts until he was writhing between flesh and metal, moaning helplessly into Jackës mouth, craving more contact.
îNo!ï Ianto managed to gasp out, turning his head to the side in a last ditch attempt to 'stop the world' because he really felt he ought to get off, even if his traitorous body was having none of it.
Jackës laugh was rich and heavy. îNo? Youëre response led me to believe otherwise.ï
There was a blast of music as the pub door slammed open and Jack found himself catapulted several feet away. Ianto's panic had lent him the strength of ten it seemed, and before Jack had stopped moving Ianto was in the driver's seat of the SUV and closing the door.
Getting in to the car quietly, Jack remained silent as Ianto started the engine and pulled away from the kerb. As they joined the southbound traffic they passed a Harwoodës lorry and Ianto remembered Rhys' call.
îI think you have a message,ï Ianto said crisply, reaching in his pocket and handing Jack his phone. îFrom Rhys.ï
Jack turned to look at Ianto's rigid profile and some semblance of his normal thought processes clicked into place. He noticed a livid flush across Iantoës cheeks along with a seemingly unmoving scowl.
îAre you alright?ï Jack asked tentatively, wondering if he ought to ask Owen to take a look at him.
îFine,ï Ianto replied sharply, his back ramrod straight, not resting against the driving seat like it usually did and his eyes glued to the road as if theyëd stray if he werenët concentrating completely on driving.
Jack was concerned. He hadnët meant any harm by infecting Ianto with the space dust. It was supposed to loosen him up, help him have some fun for once... but maybe it had a different effect on 21st century humans.
îIëm sor-ï Jack began to apologise, but Ianto shook his head firmly, his eyes still fixed on the traffic ahead.
îListen to your message,ï he said,
Jack paused before he did so, hoping that whatever the message was, it wouldnët antagonise Ianto into accidentally driving them into a building.
"Jack, please ring me back. I need to talk to you. I'm on my way to The Hub with Gwen. Meet us there, soon as you can."
îGood thing weëre already on our way back then.ï Ianto said, his fingers now clenched around the steering wheel in a hold that Jack knew Ianto would never use normally.
îGood thing weëre almost there,ï Jack responded trying not to sound as relieved as he felt when he saw the bay come into view.
______________________________
"OWEN!" Gwen yelled almost before the hub door had finished rolling.
At his workstation Doctor Harper jumped reflexively and clicked 'send' before he was ready. "Urrrrgh" he growled.
"O-wen!" she called again.
Couldn't the twat see he was right here.... working! Well, having kinky IM sex with a 'friend' to be exact, but that wasn't the point.
"WHAT!"
"Oh, good, you're still here."
Owen swivelled in his seat and folded his arms but didn't dignify Gwen's statement with a response. His eyes switched to Rhys and were caught by the heightened colour of the man's face, and the way he seemed to be looking for someone, and not yours truly, apparently. He unfolded his arms again.
"What's wrong?"
"It's Rhys!" Gwen said, sounding breathless and slightly panicky.
Owen rolled his eyes. "I can see that." He stood and walked towards the Welshman, noting the sweat on Rhys' upper lip and his eyes looking darker than they should. "What's he done? Or more likely, what's he taken?"
Rhys bridled. "I haven't done or taken anything, thank you! I just think I might have..."
At this point Rhys paused and looked bilious. Owen reached down for Tosh's wastebasket; his own was too full of takeaway cartons and balls of paper, but Rhys put out his hands. "No. It's okay. I'm not gonna be sick."
Gwen piped up, like Rhys was 8 and with his mother at the doctor's surgery, "He thinks he might have eaten some of that alien. The one they were..."
Owen closed his eyes, "I KNOW the one, Gwen."
"It can't be poison," offered Rhys, "I had the kebab days ago, but I might have gotten a... you know, a parasite?"
Owen rocked back on his heels. He SO didn't need this again.
"Owen?" Gwen asked, stepping forward and touching his arm. "Are you alright?"
------------------------
Down in the medical bay, Owen felt steadier. The memories of his first encounter with an alien life form lost his fiancÈ because one of them had set up home in her brain, weren't clawing at him so much here... and history didn't now look so much like it was repeating itself with Rhys and Gwen.
It looked more like Rhys was high on something, but Owen couldn't identify what, and Tosh was not going to get dragged in for this - not if he could help it. There were traces of something on Rhys' skin, mostly his hands, so with luck he'd gotten enough stuck under his fingernails for Owen to analyse.
-----------------------
The Hub door rolled away again and Jack, followed by a butler-faced Ianto, appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Okay people, what's up?" Jack grinned at everyone before winking at Rhys. "And what's been happening to my second favourite Welshman?"
Ianto frowned. Jack had been high all evening and he clearly wasn't coming down yet. It was beginning to piss him off.
Rhys stared so fixedly at Jack coming down the stairs into the autopsy bay that Gwen stopped doing up Rhys' shirt buttons for him and looked in his face. "Rhys love, what's the matter?" she said, but Rhys gave no sign of hearing her, he seemed mesmerised.
Jack stopped about six feet away, the picture of cocky confidence, with his hands on his hips, his greatcoat open and pushed behind him. His chin was lifted just a fraction and his eyes were huge.
Rhys swallowed, licked his lips, and then, quite distinctly, checked Jack out.
It was a tiny movement, as if he didn't normally do this, and he was trying not to, but just couldn't help himself. The same way, in all probability, that Jack couldn't help but grin a little wider and shift his weight onto one hip slightly more than the other.
"Jack!" Ianto growled a warning. The joke was over. This had gone far enough.
But it was Rhys who responded, glaring at Ianto. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, "her bloody keeper then?"
Jack's eyes widened a fraction at being referred to as a female, but the others became as focussed as mere cats at a prairie dog sighting. The silence could be heard a mile away.
Then into the stillness of the moment stepped Ianto, his head low and his intent perfectly clear - he was going to 'have' Rhys for that comment.
"Whoa!" Jack shouted and Gwen screamed as Rhys pushed himself off from the autopsy table and straight for Ianto.
Owen stepped quickly out of the way. He'd seen the way the Welsh played rugby and he didn't make a habit of stepping in front of trains either.
"Ianto!" Jack barked at him, but it did nothing to stop Ianto's fixation on Rhys or vice versa. Both Jack and Gwen were now effectively the 'girlfriends' on the edge of the pub brawl, as able to stop what was going to happen as Canute was in stopping the tide. But then perhaps they were slightly more able to do something.
Jack grabbed Ianto's wrist and collar and, using his momentum against him, spun him round and down. Ianto landed hard on his back, and Jack promptly put his knee on his chest. A second later, and both Ianto's wrists were pinned to the floor above his head.
Jack stared into the young man's confused, agitated eyes, trying to get through to him. This was not supposed to happen, the powder was supposed to make people happy!
Meanwhile, Gwen and Owen had managed to restrain Rhys enough to stop him trying to kick his prone 'enemy' and content himself with just glaring and flexing his fists.
Gwen turned to her fiance. "What the hell do you think you're doing Rhys Williams?" she practically screamed in his face. "That's my boss you were..." she flailed and seemed to lose her thought processes.ïAnd what were you DOING?"
Rhys just stared at Ianto, watching intently as Jack helped him to his feet.
Gwen continued her verbal regardless, like someone trying to jump-start several engines at once. "You don't realise. Ianto could kill you! Jesus Christ, Rhys, he WILL kill you! Jack and Ianto are..."
Finally, Rhys looked at her. "Jack and Ianto are what?" he sneered. "They married then?"
Gwen was stunned by the look on Rhys face. There was something about Rhys's expression, something she'd seen before; she just couldn't now remember the significance of it. But he was scaring her, and he had asked her a question.
"No, they're not married..."
"Ha," Rhys grinned triumphantly, "so Jack's fair game then."
"What?" Gwen croaked, her lips and throat suddenly dry as the desert. Owen groaned and muttered something like "I do not fucking believe this" and there was also a scuffling noise as Jack, once again, had to hold Ianto back.
"Ianto! Stop!" Jack said. "We need to calm down, here."
Ianto barely looked at him. "When he's OUT of here, not before!"
Jack swiped a hand down his face in frustration before taking Ianto by the shoulders and trying to pull him towards the stairs that led up into the Hub. "Listen, I need you to come with me, Yan. Please.ï
Ianto resisted. He didn't know why he was being pulled and he didn't like it, his instincts were telling him to hold his ground here. He had to defend, protect what was his, he had to -
"Yan, you have to come with me, " Jack pleaded, but Ianto shook his head and turned them both so that Jack was behind him and further away from the others.
Then Jack had a brainwave. "Okay, I get it, you don't want to come with me. That's fine. I'll take Rhys."
The effect was instantaneous and Ianto had Jack by the elbow and was hustling him up the stairs before he could get another word out. Now it was Rhys' turn to be held back, as best as could be, by a furious and scared Gwen and a bewildered but determined Owen who was seriously thinking of finding the tranquillizer darts.
--------------------------------
Ianto all but frog-marched a surprised (and increasingly intrigued) Jack up the stairs and into his own office, before giving him a shove towards the desk.
"Ianto... let me explain something," Jack tried, backing a little before an advancing, and intimidating, Ianto. "You've gotten a dose of a drug from my time, from the 51st Century ... Hey, Mmph!"
Ianto's hands were holding Jack's head, and his mouth had stopped any and all words coming from it. Within a very short space of time Jack had even forgotten what words were for as he was 'taken' to heaven and back by the possessive force of Ianto's kiss. It was owning, controlling and it went straight to Jack's cock. Express delivery.
Ianto tilted Jack's head to get a better, deeper angle and snaked an arm round his waist to pull him hard against him. The Captain's arms lifted and went round the Welshman's neck. The move brought their thighs and pelvises even further together, and Ianto twisted his hips a little to fit his leg and cock exactly where he wanted them, between and alongside Jack's.
At this rate, Jack thought fleetingly, he was going to come like a teenager, but then again, Ianto didn't seem to want to play it slow either. Jack ground back against the hard body that was smashed against his, revelling in the need and the confident power that seemed to pour off him. God he had missed this so much... so few ever seemed to want to push him like this... it was usually him...
Then Jack's train of thought was ended abruptly as his ass hit the edge of the desk and Ianto's hands were at his belt, undoing it and attacking his fly buttons one handed as the other pulled frantically at braces, shirt and Tee shirt.
"I'll do it, " Jack breathed and let go of Ianto's shoulders to strip his top half, the undershirt and shirt coming off together with the soft pop of at least one button tearing loose. When this was all over, Jack smirked, he'd make Ianto sew them back on for him. He was going to be so embarrassed at this, but right now he was anything but.
Jack looked down at Ianto's broad, wool-clad shoulders as he bent down in front of him, yanking down trousers and boxers together, and he smiled a little sentimentally. To have this beautiful young man so eager for him... then Jack bit back a moan that would have been audible anywhere in the Hub and grabbed onto Ianto's head like a man drowning... which he was. His cock had just been swallowed.
The suction and the heat of Ianto's rosy mouth made Jack's head roll on his neck and he realised he was starting to babble. The talented lips that slid over his glans like a soft wet kiss, and the muscular tongue that swirled and dragged like a cape had him chanting Ianto's name under his breath like a novice telling her rosary.
Then Ianto lifted his head and let go of Jack's cock with a pop. Jack was bereft and keened loudly at the shock of cold air on his prick. What the fuck...?
Then a scraping sound followed by a crash told Jack that Ianto had thoughtfully 'cleared his desk' for him again, and then Ianto's hand was on his chest, pushing him back and down.
Oh, Jack grinned as he got the idea, and he began scraping his feet trying to get the restricting trousers off, but he still had his boots on, dammit! He was about to sit up again when Ianto bent and lifted Jack's feet high in the air, boots and all, and then slipped under and between them, imprisoning himself between Jack's thighs, locked in by the tangle of the half-mast trousers.
Jack looked at Ianto standing over him, the dark wool of the still almost perfect suit contrasting with his own bare legs; the way those blue eyes roamed his nakedness, the way those long fingers slid and pressed, feeling his skin like it was material he was thinking of buying... perhaps for another suit?
He wanted to be that material, the one Ianto chose for his next suit, the one that would be next to his skin all day. And he wanted so much more too, but even a look of request was squashed by a flick of an eyebrow and a purse of those ruby lips.
Jack lay still, panting slightly to keep control of himself, waiting... oh god, the image... for his 'trick' to make the first move.
Ianto nodded, then took hold of Jack's balls in his long cool fingers, lifting them and flickering his fingers underneath to get right to the back, to his perineum and then rolling the heavy eggs gently for a second or two. Jack's head fell back and he let out a whine of need. He was leaking, for fuck's sake. He didn't leak. Not like this!
And then there was wool pressed against his ass and balls and he could feel Ianto's hard cock, still inside his trousers, grinding against his buttocks as Ianto's hands slid over and round, and up and down his hot and aching prick.
Jack arched up into the swirling, silky pull of one the most tender and irresistible hand jobs he'd had in... well a bloody long time, put it that way. His young lover knew exactly where to press, when to peel and cover, when to ghost and when to tear it up. Like almost all 51st century men, Jack was uncut and Ianto was making the most of it.
The Captain flung out his hands and gripped the edges of the desk and the sweat dripped from him onto its leather surface, but Ianto kept on, quickening his pace and getting a firmer grip, till Jack gulped out an incoherent warning and then came, and came, gasping Ianto's name and a stream of tender-sounding words that might have actually been obscenities for all Ianto knew, they were in no language he'd ever heard.
But now it was the Welshman's turn, and before Jack's breathing had even begun to slow, there was the sound of a zip being drawn down.
Jack lifted his head and took a look. Framed by the vee of his own thighs was a sight that threatened to take his breath away. Ianto was preparing himself, his gently curving cock rising up from his open fly like it was taking the air, it's head like a pink luscious plum and those musician's fingers stroking, lubricating it with... Damn, that was his come! Ianto had caught it and was putting it to good use, so that was why he wanted to use his hands.
Jack grinned and wriggled his ass, but received a stinging slap on the butt for it. Ianto wasn't playing, he was deadly serious here and Jack had better remember his place.
So Jack wasn't entirely surprised when Ianto pushed two fingers inside of him without the benefit of any lube other than a thin coating of his own come. Jack arched up, not entirely enjoying the experience but not complaining. He was no virgin and if Ianto wanted to play a bit rough then he could accommodate.
Then he saw an uncertain look flicker across Ianto's face, a fleeting doubt. Ianto's fingers faltered in their rhythm inside of him and Jack realised Ianto was probably beginning to come down from the effects of the 'party' dust. He couldn't let this go though, not now.
"Lube's in the desk, Yan. Don't stop, you in me, feels so good." He encouraged the younger man and was relieved when the uncertainty cleared from his lover's eyes and he reached, fumbling one-handed for the drawer.
"Let me," again Jack helped and took the tube from Ianto who had not stopped his probing and stretching of Jack's hole, even though he desperately wanted to guide his twitching cock there and take it.
Then Jack had lifted his hips a little and reached round to where Ianto's fingers were working. There was a cool slipperiness around his fingers, and Jack was smiling and saying something Ianto wasn't quite sure he heard correctly. It sounded like, "Go for it Tiger".
Tiger?
But he didn't need to be told a second time.
Jack felt the head of Ianto's cock slide down his perineum towards his hole. The young Welshman's shaft was curved beautifully up from the base and the head pointed more at his own belly than where it was going, so he had to push it down to get the right angle for entry.
Jack hollowed his back and felt the pushing fingers leave him. Then there was pressure and Jack breathed out the air he'd been holding as Ianto breached and filled him in one powerful, gliding thrust... hitting him right where it mattered.
Jack gasped and reached wildly, needing to hold on. He was falling in a void of stars and wisps of red and gold. Ianto took his Captain's hands and twined their fingers before pushing them back to the desk and leaning on them as he slowly withdrew, whispering to Jack how he was all kinds of beautiful, and how he was going to show him just how much he was loved and appreciated.
Then Jack's world began to dissolve as Ianto began pushing into him and back in a rhythm that grew steadily faster and more forceful, repeatedly hitting that same sweet spot that made the night sky turn inside Jack's head. Ianto proceeded to fuck the older man's brains out, pouring his own heart and soul into the space left behind.
---------------
Jack walked slowly down the stairs into the main Hub with an inscrutable-looking Ianto close behind him, so closely behind, in fact, he was almost treading on his heels. They stopped when they reached the main deck of the Hub and Jack looked around.
Ianto just looked at Jack and the Captain gave his young Welshman a meltingly soppy smile. He may have come down from his office but not yet from where Ianto had just taken him. Then they heard a sound in the kitchen and Jack tilted his head as a sign that they should both go see what was, or had been, occurring.
In the kitchen they discovered Gwen making tea, and for everyone it would seem, judging by the line of mugs with little tags hanging over their tops and the kettle coming to the boil. And she was alone. Where was Owen, and more to the point, where was the other amorous Welshman?
Then a thought occurred to him; no-one made tea but Ianto. No-one drank tea but Ianto and Tosh, and he didn't think Tosh was even here. Jack began to feel a little panicky that the pixie dust effect had spread farther than he'd anticipated.
"Gwen," Jack said. "Where are Owen and Rhys?"
Gwen turned round, smiling and happy to see them. It was then that they realised she was wearing Ianto's green apron and her sleeves were rolled up. Jack stared at the dab of white powder on her nose. "That is flour on your nose, isn't it Gwen?"
"Yeah, I'm just knocking up a few scones," Gwen returned to her task. "Rhys gets the munchies. He's in the cells sleeping it off. Owen had to knock him out." She glanced back over her shoulder. "Didn't want him disturbing you two now did we?"
At this point Ianto seemed to wake up to what was happening and leaned into Jack, though he didn't take his eyes off Gwen. "What's happened to her? She sounds just like my Mam."
Jack hardly heard him. "And Owen?"
"Having a shower. He likes to be clean, does Owen. Said he didn't want to get any of that stuff on him if he could help it." She wiped her floury hands on a tea towel hung in the ties of the apron and took two mugs from the line. "Cup of tea for you. Boinking does bring on a thirst, doesn't it?"
Jack finally glanced at the young Welshman. "Correction, Ianto, she doesn't sound at all like your Mam."
end
Comments are loved, all of them.
Rating: Explicit m/m NC:17 Please, no minors!
Categories: Humour and pr0n with a side order of plot
Cast: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Rhys and Owen
Spoilers: Set after 'Meat' so, mentions of that and an event in 'Fragments', but on the whole, pretty spoiler-safe.
Summary: Pink dust falls on Rhys' car and it has a strange effect on everyone but Owen - "Well someone's got to stay in control"
Thanks: To Jimscki for the invaluable advice, and Avon_09 for the encouragement. The authors beta'd each other's work so all mistakes are in-house.
Disclaimer: Not mine, alas.
Rhys Williams checked his watch again. It said 15:46. The last time he'd looked it had said 15:40. The time before that - well, the details were irrelevant.
Jack had said 15.30 in the car park outside The Green Man, so he'd got here at 15.15 to be on the safe side, and he was still waiting. His head jerked as he started to nod off. That was the trouble with working a double shift. Rhys Williams, Undercover Agent for Torchwood and Area Manager for Harwood's Haulage.
He thought he'd better get out of the car and walk about a bit, try to wake himself up. He wanted all his wits about him if this "talk" Jack wanted was going to be anything like the stand-off they'd had a couple of days ago.
Rhys shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered away from the car for a few yards, turned and wandered back slowly, deep in thought. Jack was the kind of bloke that made Rhys feel tense all the time, challenged; like he'd always got to be on his toes, proving himself.
Jack was a natural leader, Rhys granted him that, and he did care about his team. Ach, it was Gwen he was talking about here really. Rhys didn't give a rat's ass about any of the others, nice people though they probably were when they were at home. And it was plain that Jack cared about Gwen's safety. If he could only convince himself that that was all the glamorous Captain cared about.
He stopped beside his car and looked at his watch again; 15:52. He gazed around absently, not really expecting to see the Torchwood SUV pull into the car park, even though he'd been waiting 37 minutes for that very thing to happen.
The solid Welshman looked away from the approaching vehicle and examined the pub. It wouldn't do for Jack to think he'd been standing here like a lemon for as long as he had. Schooling his face into a mask of indifference, Rhys brushed some dust from the roof of his car. He rubbed his fingers together. It felt like talcum, if talcum was pink and a bit sparkly. Maybe it was plaster.
Then Jack was there, smiling, apologising, shaking his hand, standing too close. Rhys sighed and took a step back.
-----------------
Jack watched Rhys back his car round and then pause to wave before pulling out into the early evening rush hour. The former Time Agent and con-man from the 51st Century smiled and looked down at his hand. The fingers were pink and hot, like they are when you've clapped hard to make the diva come out and do an encore. He rubbed them together thoughtfully.
So; Rhys had come into contact with something else that was 'out of this world'. It felt very much like one of those 'party' substances he'd come across when he was a teenager, short-lived mood enhancers or de-inhibitors mostly. He licked a finger. Glitter. You couldn't mistake its distinctive 'fizzyfruit' flavour. Jack grinned. It was harmless enough. Things might just get a bit weird for a while.
__________
The traffic was very slow round the St David's redevelopment and Rhys had plenty of time to go over what Jack had said to him in the car park. Well, sitting in the SUV actually, not standing in the open like a stand-off at Checkpoint Charlie.
It hadn't been that bad after all, Rhys thought to himself. Jack was a reasonable person... he'd been worried about his team, and Rhys' safety too. He could understand they wouldn't want a newbie out on such an important mission with an alien involved. Even if it had been more an object of pity than fear, it was a bloody big object.
Poor thing. And they said it was a baby! How could they tell? And what size must it's Mam be? Jack had been very upset by the whole thing, Rhys could tell that. They'd all been hit hard by it. Rhys shook his head. It had been a bad business.
His palms prickled on the wheel, and he felt a wave of nausea that made him groan aloud. That was all he needed, this week of all weeks, with a new driver to find and loads of orders. But maybe it was just the after-effects, the shock. What did they call it? Post Traumatic Stress.
Nah! It would take much more than a big kebab to make him need counselling. A bead of sweat began its journey down his temple, past his ear. Wait a minute! He'd had a kebab on Saturday, after the match! What if some of the meat...
The lights on the lorry ahead suddenly glowed a fiery red and Rhys hit the brakes hard, earning him a blare from the driver behind. He was definitely feeling the worse for wear now. Good job he was almost home. He wondered if Gwen was there, and if Jack had made it safely back to the Hub. Perhaps he should ring and check.
----------------
îIanto?ï
îSir?ï
îAre you at the hub?ï
îYup.ï
îStay.ï
îHmmmm?ï
îI suddenly find myself wanting to go to that pub near the cinema tonight,ï Jack said with an excited laugh. There was a momentës pause where Jack wondered if Ianto would decline, but then he replied.
îIsnët it karaoke night tonight?ï
îIs it?! Doesnët matter, they still serve drinks right?ï
îRight...ï Ianto answered dubiously.
Jack grinned to himself as he stopped at a zebra crossing, Ianto would be much more enthusiastic later.
______________________
By the time Rhys went to park his car, he could see that Gwen's was already there and he looked up to see the lights on in their apartment. He locked the car and pulled out his mobile, if he was going to ring Jack, now would be the time. Squashing down the sensation that he was doing something ridiculous, he found Jackës number in his phonebook and rang.
The phone continued to ring as he wandered across the road and stopped outside their building. When it went to voicemail, he considered cancelling the call because really, what kind of message would he leave? Then the beep sounded in his ear and the die was cast.
îHi!ï he started nervously, îEr; itës me Rhys. Just ringing to check you got back OK. I-er, just send a text or call quickly when you get this. Bye.ï
He ended the call quickly and dropped his phone in his pocket like it had suddenly become hot. He must be going off his rocker, he thought and realised that he did feel a bit light-headed. But being a practical man, by the time he was putting his key into his front door he'd made up his mind that it was nothing a meal and a good nightës sleep couldnët rectify.
_______________________________
In the garage at the Hub Jack stood staring at his phone. It told him he had one voice message, and it was from Rhys Williams. He pressed Select.
îHi! ...er; itës me Rhys. Just ringing to check you got back OK. I-er, just send a text or call quickly when you get this. Bye.ï
îYouëre having an affair with Rhys.ï
Jack almost jumped, sometimes Ianto moved like a wraith, silent and unnoticeable but for the slightest stirring of air. He looked over to where Ianto stood leaning against the door of the SUV.
Jack shook his head and smiled, îNo, not yet.ï
îYou want to have an affair with Rhys.ï Again the Welsh voice hadnët the slightest inflection or undercurrent that would suggest what he was thinking. "What about Gwen?ï
îYou want me to have an affair with Gwen?ï Jack almost squeaked.
Now Ianto scowled and looked away. îI donët care who youëre sleeping with Jack, you know that, but donët go wreaking havoc on their relationship. You have a habit of prioritising your sex compass over your 21st century ethics compass. And the trouble is, we poor Neanderthals haven't the will to deny you.ï
Jack ignored the reprimand. It didn't make sense anyway, not with Ianto standing there looking so edibly buttoned up and stern while at the same time admitting that he had no will to deny him.
Jack was drawn forwards, fascinated by the fact that the young Welshman seemed to look even more glittery and gorgeous (if that were possible) than usual. He could feel his own skin tingling from the dust and he just had to try and share it.
He grabbed hold of one of Iantoës hands and pulled him into a twirl, trying to pass on his own joyful glow. îLighten up, Mr. Misery, dance with me,ï The sensation had become increasingly heady as time had passed and Jack could only wonder what it was doing to Rhys.
----------------
îOh! This is so fun!ï Jack exclaimed, watching a pretty young blonde and her pretty young blond boyfriend singing some... song at each other. It would be safe to say he didnët recognise it, though Ianto seemingly did.
îJack. What is wrong with you?ï
îNothing!ï Jack responded, raising his voice above the din and grinning widely, îIëm just happy.ï
Ianto stared at him sceptically, but then appeared to take it at face value and turned back to his pint.
îIëm going to sing!ï Jack said finally, putting his glass down with a resounding thump and putting his phone into Iantoës hand.
îThought so,ï Ianto muttered under his breath and silently praying it wouldnët be as embarrassing an experience as the last time Jack had taken the microphone.
Jack leaned in and lifted an eyebrow. îAny requests?ï
Ianto just gave Jack a warning glare and watched as he went up towards the stage. There was nothing wrong with Jackës voice, in fact, there was everything right with Jackës voice. If he werenët so dedicated to guarding the rift and protecting Earth or whatever it was they did, he could have made an amazing singer. Then again, he still had eternity to branch out in to the entertainment business.
He recognised the song Jack had chosen immediately; it had been a firm favourite of the Captain's during Iantoës first few months at Torchwood Three. During his endless late nights in the archives, Ianto would hear the faint echo of Frank Sinatra.
As he moved towards the surface the sound would fill out and become mellow and he'd find Jack alone at Toshës desk and watching the screens or sprawled out on the sofa fiddling with some bit of tech, almost wallowing in the nostalgic tune. At the time it was the closest he'd seen to Jack relaxing.
As for the choice of music, Ianto had thought little of it. Jack had a taste for the clothes of another era, why not the music too. Then late one Wednesday night when heëd resolved to go home and catch some sleep, heëd heard an added voice to the familiar track.
It shouldnët have surprised him and yet he had found himself frozen on the steps from the archive, unwilling to intrude as Jack alternated between humming and singing as he leaned over Owenës desk to sign a pile of reports. Jack had a mesmerising voice, and Ianto was very much aware of its pull.
Watching now as Jack kept looking back at him to catch his eye even as he attempted to rouse a pretty unappreciative audience, he remembered vividly the moment Jack had somehow felt him watching from the stairway. They had stared at each other for many seconds.
îYouëre very good,ï Ianto had said to him when the silence between them had become awkward. For a moment, a look of surprised pleasure had flashed across Jackës face before heëd grinned and leaned back across the desk.
îIëm good at a number of things, Mr. Jones,ï heëd replied, his voice laden with promise, and Ianto had smiled and blushed and fluttered aimlessly for a second before fleeing to the tourist office for his coat with the sound of Frank Sinatra and Jack Harkness ghosting hot on his heels.
Iëd sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of having you near
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear
Donët you know...
It was easy to see that Jack's talent was wasted here, where people really just wanted an excuse to sing along to S Club 7 without seeming idiotic and yet his natural allure somehow had everyone captivated. Perhaps it was something about the gently curving mouth and twinkling eyes, or even the absurdity of the military coat. Whatever it was, Ianto found himself also being lulled by the comfort of Jackës strong voice.
Makes me stop just before I begin
êCause Iëve got you under my skin
Yes, Iëve got you under my skin
Then the Welshman found himself jerked out of his contented state by a familiar buzzing. He stared at Jackës phone vibrating on the bar. It showed Rhysë name on the screen and Ianto wondered if he should pick it up, but to his horror he heard the opening to NëSyncës êTearing Up My Heartë.
Ianto stiffened, and not in a good way. Not again! And he glanced longingly at the exit. But he couldn't leave Jack, no matter what. He pocketed Jack's phone and slid off the bar stool ready to make his way as unobtrusively as possible to the stage.
"Sorry Sir" Ianto muttered as he located the wire going from the backing track machine to a socket in the wall. He snagged it with his foot and the music stopped abruptly.
îJack, thatës enough, letës go,ï Ianto whispered as loudly as he dared, standing on the second step of the stage and trying to look invisible.
Jack turned to him and smiled hugely, the microphone at his mouth. îIanto!" he cooed, pleased as a magpie that had seen something shiny. Ianto's jaw dropped and the word SHIT seemed appropriate.
îJACK!ï Ianto hissed furiously, îthe microphone is still on!ï
It was then that he knew he should have high-tailed it out of there and left Jack to fend for himself, because Jack wasnët listening to him, and he wasn't going to. Instead a hand had shot out and fisted around his tie, pulling Ianto onto the stage.
"Youëre so pretty when youëre angry, you know that?ï Jack said, and the whole pub heard it. Then Jack kissed him.
It was the wolf whistles that brought Ianto back to reality and he pushed Jack away. îYOU! What... What is wrong with you?ï his own amplified voice echoing around the room. There were whoops and laughter as Ianto relieved Jack of the microphone and, taking his hand, pulled him off the stage.
îAre we having a domestic in public?ïJack enquired, apparently more amused by the idea than worried.
îThis!ï Ianto gritted his teeth as he navigated them both to the exit, îIs not a domestic.ï
îThen why are we leaving? I was having so much fun!ï
Ianto cursed Jackës loud voice as eyes followed them across the room until they were safely on a quiet, empty street. Ianto immediately made for the SUV, skin still burning with a blush and anger colouring his vision.
îWhat did you think you were doing? Weëre going back to the Hub right now. I canët believe you just did that... and after the last time! This is just typical...î
îSee,ï Jack murmured grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him to a stop, îso pretty,ï he continued, coming closer and Ianto couldnët help himself but still under his touch, letting Jack invade his personal space and press his nose against his cheek.
îJack,ï he said finally, trying to ignore the warmth of Jack's breath against his neck, îletës just... go.ï
îOK,ï Jack agreed, tilting his face slightly and flicking his tongue against Iantoës ear, îletës go."
Ianto stared when he noticed Jackës bright and far too blue eyes - he was clearly 'on' something. îIëll drive,ï he said, and he took the keys from Jackës hand. Jack drove like a man possessed at the best of times - god only knew what he'd be like when he was high as a kite.
îWhy so uptight, Ianto Jones?ï Jack asked leaning against the SUV and looking up at the stars with a happy smile.
"Good question," muttered Ianto quietly, just before he found himself pinned against the SUV, fingers dipping into the êTORCHWOODë imprinted on the side as Jack pressed their hips together and dragged Ianto back in for another kiss. Ianto leaned back as far as he could - he had to stay in control of this situation - but he found he was only pushing their lower halves closer together as he bent away.
îI think we should have sex,ï Jack said leaning forward for every centimetre Ianto had leaned back. Ianto stared up in slack-jawed shock at the blunt proposition, but the whole 'Jack' thing that this man had, the pheromones, the grin, the cocky confidence, the way it always wiped Ianto's good intentions; resistance was useless.
Ianto didnët even notice when his hand went from pushing at Jackës chest to wrapping around his neck and tugging him close enough to fuse their mouths together.
Jackës kisses were always dizzying, infusions of his unmoving warmth and laughter but this - Ianto thought as his body somehow agreed to be flattened on the hood of the SUV and his legs lifted themselves around Jack - this was something else. It was overwhelming, overriding all his instincts until he was writhing between flesh and metal, moaning helplessly into Jackës mouth, craving more contact.
îNo!ï Ianto managed to gasp out, turning his head to the side in a last ditch attempt to 'stop the world' because he really felt he ought to get off, even if his traitorous body was having none of it.
Jackës laugh was rich and heavy. îNo? Youëre response led me to believe otherwise.ï
There was a blast of music as the pub door slammed open and Jack found himself catapulted several feet away. Ianto's panic had lent him the strength of ten it seemed, and before Jack had stopped moving Ianto was in the driver's seat of the SUV and closing the door.
Getting in to the car quietly, Jack remained silent as Ianto started the engine and pulled away from the kerb. As they joined the southbound traffic they passed a Harwoodës lorry and Ianto remembered Rhys' call.
îI think you have a message,ï Ianto said crisply, reaching in his pocket and handing Jack his phone. îFrom Rhys.ï
Jack turned to look at Ianto's rigid profile and some semblance of his normal thought processes clicked into place. He noticed a livid flush across Iantoës cheeks along with a seemingly unmoving scowl.
îAre you alright?ï Jack asked tentatively, wondering if he ought to ask Owen to take a look at him.
îFine,ï Ianto replied sharply, his back ramrod straight, not resting against the driving seat like it usually did and his eyes glued to the road as if theyëd stray if he werenët concentrating completely on driving.
Jack was concerned. He hadnët meant any harm by infecting Ianto with the space dust. It was supposed to loosen him up, help him have some fun for once... but maybe it had a different effect on 21st century humans.
îIëm sor-ï Jack began to apologise, but Ianto shook his head firmly, his eyes still fixed on the traffic ahead.
îListen to your message,ï he said,
Jack paused before he did so, hoping that whatever the message was, it wouldnët antagonise Ianto into accidentally driving them into a building.
"Jack, please ring me back. I need to talk to you. I'm on my way to The Hub with Gwen. Meet us there, soon as you can."
îGood thing weëre already on our way back then.ï Ianto said, his fingers now clenched around the steering wheel in a hold that Jack knew Ianto would never use normally.
îGood thing weëre almost there,ï Jack responded trying not to sound as relieved as he felt when he saw the bay come into view.
______________________________
"OWEN!" Gwen yelled almost before the hub door had finished rolling.
At his workstation Doctor Harper jumped reflexively and clicked 'send' before he was ready. "Urrrrgh" he growled.
"O-wen!" she called again.
Couldn't the twat see he was right here.... working! Well, having kinky IM sex with a 'friend' to be exact, but that wasn't the point.
"WHAT!"
"Oh, good, you're still here."
Owen swivelled in his seat and folded his arms but didn't dignify Gwen's statement with a response. His eyes switched to Rhys and were caught by the heightened colour of the man's face, and the way he seemed to be looking for someone, and not yours truly, apparently. He unfolded his arms again.
"What's wrong?"
"It's Rhys!" Gwen said, sounding breathless and slightly panicky.
Owen rolled his eyes. "I can see that." He stood and walked towards the Welshman, noting the sweat on Rhys' upper lip and his eyes looking darker than they should. "What's he done? Or more likely, what's he taken?"
Rhys bridled. "I haven't done or taken anything, thank you! I just think I might have..."
At this point Rhys paused and looked bilious. Owen reached down for Tosh's wastebasket; his own was too full of takeaway cartons and balls of paper, but Rhys put out his hands. "No. It's okay. I'm not gonna be sick."
Gwen piped up, like Rhys was 8 and with his mother at the doctor's surgery, "He thinks he might have eaten some of that alien. The one they were..."
Owen closed his eyes, "I KNOW the one, Gwen."
"It can't be poison," offered Rhys, "I had the kebab days ago, but I might have gotten a... you know, a parasite?"
Owen rocked back on his heels. He SO didn't need this again.
"Owen?" Gwen asked, stepping forward and touching his arm. "Are you alright?"
------------------------
Down in the medical bay, Owen felt steadier. The memories of his first encounter with an alien life form lost his fiancÈ because one of them had set up home in her brain, weren't clawing at him so much here... and history didn't now look so much like it was repeating itself with Rhys and Gwen.
It looked more like Rhys was high on something, but Owen couldn't identify what, and Tosh was not going to get dragged in for this - not if he could help it. There were traces of something on Rhys' skin, mostly his hands, so with luck he'd gotten enough stuck under his fingernails for Owen to analyse.
-----------------------
The Hub door rolled away again and Jack, followed by a butler-faced Ianto, appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Okay people, what's up?" Jack grinned at everyone before winking at Rhys. "And what's been happening to my second favourite Welshman?"
Ianto frowned. Jack had been high all evening and he clearly wasn't coming down yet. It was beginning to piss him off.
Rhys stared so fixedly at Jack coming down the stairs into the autopsy bay that Gwen stopped doing up Rhys' shirt buttons for him and looked in his face. "Rhys love, what's the matter?" she said, but Rhys gave no sign of hearing her, he seemed mesmerised.
Jack stopped about six feet away, the picture of cocky confidence, with his hands on his hips, his greatcoat open and pushed behind him. His chin was lifted just a fraction and his eyes were huge.
Rhys swallowed, licked his lips, and then, quite distinctly, checked Jack out.
It was a tiny movement, as if he didn't normally do this, and he was trying not to, but just couldn't help himself. The same way, in all probability, that Jack couldn't help but grin a little wider and shift his weight onto one hip slightly more than the other.
"Jack!" Ianto growled a warning. The joke was over. This had gone far enough.
But it was Rhys who responded, glaring at Ianto. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, "her bloody keeper then?"
Jack's eyes widened a fraction at being referred to as a female, but the others became as focussed as mere cats at a prairie dog sighting. The silence could be heard a mile away.
Then into the stillness of the moment stepped Ianto, his head low and his intent perfectly clear - he was going to 'have' Rhys for that comment.
"Whoa!" Jack shouted and Gwen screamed as Rhys pushed himself off from the autopsy table and straight for Ianto.
Owen stepped quickly out of the way. He'd seen the way the Welsh played rugby and he didn't make a habit of stepping in front of trains either.
"Ianto!" Jack barked at him, but it did nothing to stop Ianto's fixation on Rhys or vice versa. Both Jack and Gwen were now effectively the 'girlfriends' on the edge of the pub brawl, as able to stop what was going to happen as Canute was in stopping the tide. But then perhaps they were slightly more able to do something.
Jack grabbed Ianto's wrist and collar and, using his momentum against him, spun him round and down. Ianto landed hard on his back, and Jack promptly put his knee on his chest. A second later, and both Ianto's wrists were pinned to the floor above his head.
Jack stared into the young man's confused, agitated eyes, trying to get through to him. This was not supposed to happen, the powder was supposed to make people happy!
Meanwhile, Gwen and Owen had managed to restrain Rhys enough to stop him trying to kick his prone 'enemy' and content himself with just glaring and flexing his fists.
Gwen turned to her fiance. "What the hell do you think you're doing Rhys Williams?" she practically screamed in his face. "That's my boss you were..." she flailed and seemed to lose her thought processes.ïAnd what were you DOING?"
Rhys just stared at Ianto, watching intently as Jack helped him to his feet.
Gwen continued her verbal regardless, like someone trying to jump-start several engines at once. "You don't realise. Ianto could kill you! Jesus Christ, Rhys, he WILL kill you! Jack and Ianto are..."
Finally, Rhys looked at her. "Jack and Ianto are what?" he sneered. "They married then?"
Gwen was stunned by the look on Rhys face. There was something about Rhys's expression, something she'd seen before; she just couldn't now remember the significance of it. But he was scaring her, and he had asked her a question.
"No, they're not married..."
"Ha," Rhys grinned triumphantly, "so Jack's fair game then."
"What?" Gwen croaked, her lips and throat suddenly dry as the desert. Owen groaned and muttered something like "I do not fucking believe this" and there was also a scuffling noise as Jack, once again, had to hold Ianto back.
"Ianto! Stop!" Jack said. "We need to calm down, here."
Ianto barely looked at him. "When he's OUT of here, not before!"
Jack swiped a hand down his face in frustration before taking Ianto by the shoulders and trying to pull him towards the stairs that led up into the Hub. "Listen, I need you to come with me, Yan. Please.ï
Ianto resisted. He didn't know why he was being pulled and he didn't like it, his instincts were telling him to hold his ground here. He had to defend, protect what was his, he had to -
"Yan, you have to come with me, " Jack pleaded, but Ianto shook his head and turned them both so that Jack was behind him and further away from the others.
Then Jack had a brainwave. "Okay, I get it, you don't want to come with me. That's fine. I'll take Rhys."
The effect was instantaneous and Ianto had Jack by the elbow and was hustling him up the stairs before he could get another word out. Now it was Rhys' turn to be held back, as best as could be, by a furious and scared Gwen and a bewildered but determined Owen who was seriously thinking of finding the tranquillizer darts.
--------------------------------
Ianto all but frog-marched a surprised (and increasingly intrigued) Jack up the stairs and into his own office, before giving him a shove towards the desk.
"Ianto... let me explain something," Jack tried, backing a little before an advancing, and intimidating, Ianto. "You've gotten a dose of a drug from my time, from the 51st Century ... Hey, Mmph!"
Ianto's hands were holding Jack's head, and his mouth had stopped any and all words coming from it. Within a very short space of time Jack had even forgotten what words were for as he was 'taken' to heaven and back by the possessive force of Ianto's kiss. It was owning, controlling and it went straight to Jack's cock. Express delivery.
Ianto tilted Jack's head to get a better, deeper angle and snaked an arm round his waist to pull him hard against him. The Captain's arms lifted and went round the Welshman's neck. The move brought their thighs and pelvises even further together, and Ianto twisted his hips a little to fit his leg and cock exactly where he wanted them, between and alongside Jack's.
At this rate, Jack thought fleetingly, he was going to come like a teenager, but then again, Ianto didn't seem to want to play it slow either. Jack ground back against the hard body that was smashed against his, revelling in the need and the confident power that seemed to pour off him. God he had missed this so much... so few ever seemed to want to push him like this... it was usually him...
Then Jack's train of thought was ended abruptly as his ass hit the edge of the desk and Ianto's hands were at his belt, undoing it and attacking his fly buttons one handed as the other pulled frantically at braces, shirt and Tee shirt.
"I'll do it, " Jack breathed and let go of Ianto's shoulders to strip his top half, the undershirt and shirt coming off together with the soft pop of at least one button tearing loose. When this was all over, Jack smirked, he'd make Ianto sew them back on for him. He was going to be so embarrassed at this, but right now he was anything but.
Jack looked down at Ianto's broad, wool-clad shoulders as he bent down in front of him, yanking down trousers and boxers together, and he smiled a little sentimentally. To have this beautiful young man so eager for him... then Jack bit back a moan that would have been audible anywhere in the Hub and grabbed onto Ianto's head like a man drowning... which he was. His cock had just been swallowed.
The suction and the heat of Ianto's rosy mouth made Jack's head roll on his neck and he realised he was starting to babble. The talented lips that slid over his glans like a soft wet kiss, and the muscular tongue that swirled and dragged like a cape had him chanting Ianto's name under his breath like a novice telling her rosary.
Then Ianto lifted his head and let go of Jack's cock with a pop. Jack was bereft and keened loudly at the shock of cold air on his prick. What the fuck...?
Then a scraping sound followed by a crash told Jack that Ianto had thoughtfully 'cleared his desk' for him again, and then Ianto's hand was on his chest, pushing him back and down.
Oh, Jack grinned as he got the idea, and he began scraping his feet trying to get the restricting trousers off, but he still had his boots on, dammit! He was about to sit up again when Ianto bent and lifted Jack's feet high in the air, boots and all, and then slipped under and between them, imprisoning himself between Jack's thighs, locked in by the tangle of the half-mast trousers.
Jack looked at Ianto standing over him, the dark wool of the still almost perfect suit contrasting with his own bare legs; the way those blue eyes roamed his nakedness, the way those long fingers slid and pressed, feeling his skin like it was material he was thinking of buying... perhaps for another suit?
He wanted to be that material, the one Ianto chose for his next suit, the one that would be next to his skin all day. And he wanted so much more too, but even a look of request was squashed by a flick of an eyebrow and a purse of those ruby lips.
Jack lay still, panting slightly to keep control of himself, waiting... oh god, the image... for his 'trick' to make the first move.
Ianto nodded, then took hold of Jack's balls in his long cool fingers, lifting them and flickering his fingers underneath to get right to the back, to his perineum and then rolling the heavy eggs gently for a second or two. Jack's head fell back and he let out a whine of need. He was leaking, for fuck's sake. He didn't leak. Not like this!
And then there was wool pressed against his ass and balls and he could feel Ianto's hard cock, still inside his trousers, grinding against his buttocks as Ianto's hands slid over and round, and up and down his hot and aching prick.
Jack arched up into the swirling, silky pull of one the most tender and irresistible hand jobs he'd had in... well a bloody long time, put it that way. His young lover knew exactly where to press, when to peel and cover, when to ghost and when to tear it up. Like almost all 51st century men, Jack was uncut and Ianto was making the most of it.
The Captain flung out his hands and gripped the edges of the desk and the sweat dripped from him onto its leather surface, but Ianto kept on, quickening his pace and getting a firmer grip, till Jack gulped out an incoherent warning and then came, and came, gasping Ianto's name and a stream of tender-sounding words that might have actually been obscenities for all Ianto knew, they were in no language he'd ever heard.
But now it was the Welshman's turn, and before Jack's breathing had even begun to slow, there was the sound of a zip being drawn down.
Jack lifted his head and took a look. Framed by the vee of his own thighs was a sight that threatened to take his breath away. Ianto was preparing himself, his gently curving cock rising up from his open fly like it was taking the air, it's head like a pink luscious plum and those musician's fingers stroking, lubricating it with... Damn, that was his come! Ianto had caught it and was putting it to good use, so that was why he wanted to use his hands.
Jack grinned and wriggled his ass, but received a stinging slap on the butt for it. Ianto wasn't playing, he was deadly serious here and Jack had better remember his place.
So Jack wasn't entirely surprised when Ianto pushed two fingers inside of him without the benefit of any lube other than a thin coating of his own come. Jack arched up, not entirely enjoying the experience but not complaining. He was no virgin and if Ianto wanted to play a bit rough then he could accommodate.
Then he saw an uncertain look flicker across Ianto's face, a fleeting doubt. Ianto's fingers faltered in their rhythm inside of him and Jack realised Ianto was probably beginning to come down from the effects of the 'party' dust. He couldn't let this go though, not now.
"Lube's in the desk, Yan. Don't stop, you in me, feels so good." He encouraged the younger man and was relieved when the uncertainty cleared from his lover's eyes and he reached, fumbling one-handed for the drawer.
"Let me," again Jack helped and took the tube from Ianto who had not stopped his probing and stretching of Jack's hole, even though he desperately wanted to guide his twitching cock there and take it.
Then Jack had lifted his hips a little and reached round to where Ianto's fingers were working. There was a cool slipperiness around his fingers, and Jack was smiling and saying something Ianto wasn't quite sure he heard correctly. It sounded like, "Go for it Tiger".
Tiger?
But he didn't need to be told a second time.
Jack felt the head of Ianto's cock slide down his perineum towards his hole. The young Welshman's shaft was curved beautifully up from the base and the head pointed more at his own belly than where it was going, so he had to push it down to get the right angle for entry.
Jack hollowed his back and felt the pushing fingers leave him. Then there was pressure and Jack breathed out the air he'd been holding as Ianto breached and filled him in one powerful, gliding thrust... hitting him right where it mattered.
Jack gasped and reached wildly, needing to hold on. He was falling in a void of stars and wisps of red and gold. Ianto took his Captain's hands and twined their fingers before pushing them back to the desk and leaning on them as he slowly withdrew, whispering to Jack how he was all kinds of beautiful, and how he was going to show him just how much he was loved and appreciated.
Then Jack's world began to dissolve as Ianto began pushing into him and back in a rhythm that grew steadily faster and more forceful, repeatedly hitting that same sweet spot that made the night sky turn inside Jack's head. Ianto proceeded to fuck the older man's brains out, pouring his own heart and soul into the space left behind.
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Jack walked slowly down the stairs into the main Hub with an inscrutable-looking Ianto close behind him, so closely behind, in fact, he was almost treading on his heels. They stopped when they reached the main deck of the Hub and Jack looked around.
Ianto just looked at Jack and the Captain gave his young Welshman a meltingly soppy smile. He may have come down from his office but not yet from where Ianto had just taken him. Then they heard a sound in the kitchen and Jack tilted his head as a sign that they should both go see what was, or had been, occurring.
In the kitchen they discovered Gwen making tea, and for everyone it would seem, judging by the line of mugs with little tags hanging over their tops and the kettle coming to the boil. And she was alone. Where was Owen, and more to the point, where was the other amorous Welshman?
Then a thought occurred to him; no-one made tea but Ianto. No-one drank tea but Ianto and Tosh, and he didn't think Tosh was even here. Jack began to feel a little panicky that the pixie dust effect had spread farther than he'd anticipated.
"Gwen," Jack said. "Where are Owen and Rhys?"
Gwen turned round, smiling and happy to see them. It was then that they realised she was wearing Ianto's green apron and her sleeves were rolled up. Jack stared at the dab of white powder on her nose. "That is flour on your nose, isn't it Gwen?"
"Yeah, I'm just knocking up a few scones," Gwen returned to her task. "Rhys gets the munchies. He's in the cells sleeping it off. Owen had to knock him out." She glanced back over her shoulder. "Didn't want him disturbing you two now did we?"
At this point Ianto seemed to wake up to what was happening and leaned into Jack, though he didn't take his eyes off Gwen. "What's happened to her? She sounds just like my Mam."
Jack hardly heard him. "And Owen?"
"Having a shower. He likes to be clean, does Owen. Said he didn't want to get any of that stuff on him if he could help it." She wiped her floury hands on a tea towel hung in the ties of the apron and took two mugs from the line. "Cup of tea for you. Boinking does bring on a thirst, doesn't it?"
Jack finally glanced at the young Welshman. "Correction, Ianto, she doesn't sound at all like your Mam."
end
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